Instant Karma
by eloquentfever
Summary: AU. Sebastian had been bullying Chandler all through high school unbeknownst to Chandler's boyfriend, Hunter. A year later, Chandler finally has his life back on track when he's accepted into an art school, but fate ensures that Chandler would be acquainted with his Sebastian, again, except this time the table's turned and Sebastian's the one being bullied. Huntbandler endgame.
1. 1

_okay. so this is the new fanfic. trigger warnings so far is bullying. the biggest one around here. verbal, physical, etc. whatever it is, it's here. also, disease may be a trigger, etc. i'm not done with it yet obviously so i can't pinpoint what will or will not happen but that's what i have planned so far so i will keep to that. as with all of my fanfics, character death may be possible. like i said, i can't tell until i end it, but be aware._

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1

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Charlotte Kiehl was humming far too loudly for Chandler's ears to handle on that early morning. He stepped inside of the room, decked in denim and cloaked with a cardigan when he'd seen the envelope that lay listlessly on the table.

He hadn't asked his Mother whom the envelope was for. There was only one other that lived in this house, and it was in the form of a Cocker Spaniel that was positioned close to Chandler's leg now.

Chandler picked up the envelope that was set on the desk, with unsteady hands and frugal fingers. He stared at the manila white envelope. It even smelled important – strong and leathery, like an office. He stripped the envelope of its clothing, and bore its skeleton in his hands.

The letter was from him so-called dream college in NYU. The boy's eyes suddenly filled, firstly with despair and then with tears as he read its contents and realised that he didn't get in. He hadn't.

He shook his head in disappointment, firstly of the result and secondly, of himself, as Charlotte wandered off towards the blonde that didn't need to say anything for his Mother to know the contents of the letter.

"Why?" was Chandler's weepy response to the letter that basically determined everything he had ever wanted. He looked up with big, blue eyes that were filled with dread and dismay.

"I've not a clue," Charlotte's hand had wandered off towards Chandler to grasp the blonde's shoulder as tightly as she could.

Chandler shook his head. "I didn't get into _anything_. I don't even care about NYU. I just want to be in New York, and…" he shook his head once more, allowing the thoughts to die on his tongue. The woman could only give him a comforting smile to console him.

She had left him for the moment – in all probability to make breakfast. Chandler sat down on the chair, which suddenly was uncomfortable and sturdy for no apparent reason. The blonde blinked, and tried to keep his tears to himself. They still fell freely from his face, though he liked to say that he wasn't paying attention to them.

Argon was playing with Chandler's shoes. The rather happy dog nuzzling his wet nose into Chandler's knobby knee. The blonde looked down at the dog whom was far too happy on this unforgiving morn that had left Chandler at a loss for what to do with his life.

What could he do if it wasn't the arts? What could he do if no college from the city of his dreams had accepted him? Then what could he do?

The questions were leaving Chandler feeling restless and lifeless, as he thought of the years of dance and song that he'd committed to that left his throat in a dull ache and his mind whizzing with thoughts of how unjust and unfair this was.

His Mother had placed a plate of raisin toast, and Chandler had leaned down to pull a thick spoonful of butter and spread it senselessly across the thick slice of toast. He had moved his plate just so that he can bring the tub of butter closer to him but then paused when he noticed another letter had been hiding mindlessly under the plate. Chandler had placed the toast down and picked it up. He expected nothing from it. He was fundamentally done with everything.

The envelope slid onto the ground, and Argon's first response was to chase the unwanted envelope. Chandler read as quickly as he could with his dull, interested eyes, but then his heart began to race rapidly, as he came to the end of the letter. He was still trying to process it, as he blinked a few times. He clutched his hoodie mindlessly, and looked back at his letter.

"I got in," Chandler breathed out, to himself that still was recovering from his initial rejection. "I'm going to New York! I…"

Chandler shook his head, shoving the envelope into his bag as happily as he could. He would go through this last day of school with pride, and pride for what he'd achieved – what he'd essentially earned.

Suddenly, after the joy hit, so did the smallest amount of annoyance. "Did you really have to give me a heart attack before breakfast?"

Charlotte chortled, running her hand through Chandler's hair. "I just wanted you to digest the fact that you didn't get into your first choice before I let you know that you did get in somewhere…"

"…in _New York_," Chandler breathlessly responded.

His extended family lived in New York. His Father lived in New York. His dreams lived in New York, in brilliant, bright Broadway musicals and glossy glitter.

It took him a few moments to recognise the look of sadness that had crossed Charlotte's face, and Chandler realised that his meant that he'd leave his Mother all alone in a house with Argon. He looked down at the energetic dog that was still busying himself with the envelope that was basically shredded to pieces. He wigged and wagged his tail in enthusiasm, not knowing that his owner was to leave him for a long time.

He looked back at his Mother. This house, though small, still was too big for one person.

"I'm sorry," Chandler whispered. He was sorry that he wasn't sorry enough to stay with her in the outrageous state of Ohio that Chandler had come to despise more than anything.

Charlotte nodded her head, though he knew that she hadn't quite accepted the fact that they were to part soon enough. "It's alright," she murmured. "You better pester Adam when you're there. Tell him to Skype me. You two should come down more, not just for holidays. You can…you can even bring your Father."

The last statement showed just how desperately in despair the woman already was, as Chandler knew that there was nothing Charlotte Kiehl hated more than having to face her husband, Chase Crawford, whose lips bore nothing more than lies when it came to his wife.

She'd said it time and time again. _Chandler, Chase is a good man, a brilliant Father… but a horrible husband_.

He gave her an embrace, the longest one yet, but he can tell it wouldn't be as long as the one he'd have to give her on the airport when he'd have to leave.

"I booked the flights," she said, as she added on. "Don't worry. I'm not making you stay here for the summer. You have to get accustomed to New York beforehand, but I am grounding you to Ohio for a week after today, you realise?"

Chandler nodded his head. "We're going to go to that sushi place that I hate and you like love, aren't we?"

"Of course now, Chandler. Don't ask stupid questions. We're doing everything _I_ want," Charlotte responded with a rather sweet smile, and Chandler laughed. It was fair enough, he'd decided, as he turned to leave his Mother in the household.

He couldn't imagine how lonely that it might get for her, and he didn't want to in a way.

He had slipped into the school with caution. If Chandler was spotted, the only thing that could come out of it was pure, putrid Hell. He had tried to skip and skid past many people that were just passing by here and there, only to get to his locker. _Safely_, he'd like to add on.

He opened up his locker, taking his books out so that he'd turn them in only for the blonde to hear a voice that he'd dreaded hearing for the past three years.

"Oh, if it isn't _Candy_."

Chandler turned around to be faced with Sebastian, and his rather dark-looking cronies that followed him around like Crabbe and Goyle did Malfoy. The more that the blonde had thought about it, the more and more Sebastian began to resemble the boy with pale blonde hair, what with the sneer that surrounded his face and the coldness in those frosty, green eyes.

"Sebastian," Chandler called out, nodding his head towards him. He hoped to attempt some sort of civil conversation with the brunette whose cronies' fists had sent Chandler to the hospital far too many times. Sebastian was the reason he had to repeat not one, but two years of his education. The brunette that stood before him was at eighteen, when Chandler himself was a twenty-year-old, and twenty years he'd lacked control in during situations as dreadful as these. "How are you?"

"Cut the chitchat," Sebastian snorted, shaking his head. He drew closer to Chandler, pressing the blonde backwards. "You are aware that I'm going to let my little friends here beat the shit out of you as a goodbye gift?"

"How thoughtful," Chandler found himself muttering.

"Oh, Candy, isn't my attitude rubbing off on you? That's a good attitude to have in your life," Sebastian's hands had gone to Chandler's shoulders as he slowly rubbed the boy's shoulders. "Tense, aren't we? We'll fix that right up for you."

He pushed Chandler towards the two brawny, brainless muscled boys that were grinning at their prey. Chandler shut his eyes tightly, preparing for the absolute worst that could come out of this.

Philip grabbed Chandler by the strap of his backpack and pulled him upwards as if the short blonde was made out of feathers. Chandler was aware he'd seen the ravenette before him bench-press weights that were rather ungodly – twice Philip's size, and Philip looked like he was easily two hundred pounds of pure muscle.

He had thrown the blonde across the hallway, bouncing him off into the air like a ball. He accelerated upwards before his body decided to lose all kinetic energy. He then accelerated towards. Chandler had landed quite a few feet away from his initial position, hitting the marble floor with his back towards the stony floor.

He looked up to see Sebastian towering over him. In height, Sebastian could easily outdo Chandler, but in built, there was far too little difference between Sebastian's near muscle-less built and Chandler's own which left the brunette's reliance on the other two for any form of violence being carried out.

"See you next life, Candy."

Chandler decided to inhale the surrounding air. His lungs were hurting and he felt as if his back was crushed when it had collided with the books in his backpack. He would have quite a few bruises to remember the incident by for a while, but he was glad that there were no penetrating wounds, or anything that he needed a hospital for. To be honest, the blonde was expecting that.

"Goodbye, Sebastian," the kind-hearted blonde had responded, watching the brunette walk down the hallway with his head held high, and a stride that could make a model envious.

All in all, it could be far more worse than it was.

He went to return his books, and basically just walked around school all day. They could do nothing, as the blonde had realised that there was nothing there for them to do now that their exams were completed other than stare at the walls.

Chandler decided to sit outside and pull out his sketchbook to immerse himself in drawing. After two sketches that he'd tried to colour in as properly as he could, he found himself getting bored. He'd called his Mother, whom was more than happy to pick him up soon enough.

He remembered that he had to return a library book that he'd borrowed, and thus, scurried his way towards the library.

This was the last thing he had to do, and it left the blonde feeling rather gleeful that he was going to go home soon enough and that would be the end of his stressful schooling.

The woman had taken the library book, and just as Chandler left the library in an exit most people did not go to, he found himself stopping in his position when he found Sebastian Smythe, back turned to face the exit, with a phone pressed firmly against his ear. He was listening intently to the other end of the line that he hadn't even paid attention to the door sliding open.

Now that the blonde was not running for his life, he actually got a chance to properly look at Sebastian. His brown hair was still as perfect as always. He was pristine in his posture and attire. His jeans were still ever so tight, tight enough that Chandler often wondered how the brunette placed it on unless he'd spray-painted said jeans onto his frame. He wore a faded red t-shirt, and a rather thick white jacket.

Chandler hadn't noticed that Sebastian had looked rather darling until then. Chandler himself felt like a nurse, decked in all white for what felt like no reason at all.

"I don't _care_!" Sebastian erratically called out, causing Chandler to flinch from his position. "Yes, yes, fine. I know. For fuck's sake…"

The brunette's voice had dulled down from anger-ridden to his softness. "Alright," now, he sounded tired.

Chandler Kiehl honestly had never heard Sebastian sound tired before – he sounded weak, as if he could not argue anymore. The brunette's hand had gone towards his back, mindlessly massaging it.

"Alright," he repeated, as if the first time was not weak enough. "Yeah, yeah….fine."

Chandler had no idea what the conversation was about, but it was actually making the brunette look rather upset. Sebastian's face had melted from the usual anger-ridden Sebastian to something far more toned down, a nearly saddened face.

"I know," Sebastian responded in a near teary voice. He looked close to cringing when he'd sighed, and said a plain, emotionless, "Goodbye."

He shut his phone, and Chandler was suddenly aware that he could easily get caught, and that was exactly what happened when Sebastian turned around and regained a look of pure and utter rage.

Chandler was just about to defend himself, but he should have known that there was no defence that could stop Sebastian Smythe from lashing out on the blonde.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sebastian asked, moving towards the blonde, grabbing his shoulder and bringing him closer so that Chandler can feel a certain uncomfortable with the brunette being far too close to him. "What did you hear, you little whore?"

Chandler's face had lost all colour, as he froze in his position. "Nothing," he muttered weakly. "I didn't get anything."

Sebastian snorted in disbelief and doubt, and Chandler felt a sinking feeling accumulate in his stomach. Chandler had expected the worse. Even though Sebastian wasn't built like Philip and Gary, if Sebastian pushed him around, Chandler would not stand up to the brunette.

In more than one way, Sebastian had absolute control over the blonde before him.

"Liar," Sebastian snapped. "Don't you dare fucking lie to me, you—"

Chandler's phone buzzed. He can nearly tell it was Charlotte. Who else would it be? The blonde had turned around to leave, but Sebastian had grabbed his shoulder, propelling the blonde backwards.

"What did you hear?" Sebastian repeated, the tone in his voice terribly threatening.

Chandler looked up at Sebastian's face, shaking soundlessly in his position. "You were angry, and then you were sad," he explained what he deciphered from the conversation. "That's all I know."

"I _don't_ get sad," Sebastian snorted.

The blonde was lucky since Sebastian's phone rang again, and the brunette was distracted enough that the blonde could leave. Chandler ran as fast as he could, glancing back just to see the fury that was in Sebastian's eyes. This only drove the blonde to run faster.

Running, it was something that Chandler was not good at. He had out of breath too quickly, and he swore his lungs had been depleted out of precious oxygen.

He had stopped by the gates, walking as normally as he could to regain some sort of oxygen and so that his Mother would not think he was a maniac for running towards her car.

He saw his Mother and offered Charlotte a smile, which she returned with just as much sweetness and intensity.

He slid into the car, and then breathed out a sigh of complete relief. For now, he was free. The blonde thought that he was never going to face Sebastian Smythe ever again in his life, as he sang Queen with the beat of the radio. He hummed, relaxing in his position. He had no idea that soon enough, he'd be faced with the brunette again, and would be for an incredibly long time.

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_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	2. 2

2

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Hunter Clarington didn't often care much about dinner parties, but in all honesty, for once, the occasion celebration was not pseudo-special but truly special.

And a special occasion, of course, needed a special gift, and that was exactly what Hunter Clarington was presenting to Chandler Kiehl.

Hunter's eyes were onto his boyfriend's attire – clearly formal what with the fitted suit, and a grand black bowtie that only seemed to contrast the rosy hue that filled Chandler's face when he had been presented with the gift, a very small white box tied with a ruby red ribbon.

Chandler had opened the box as cautiously as possible, and then raised an eyebrow when he noticed an envelope awaiting him.

Hunter tried to hold himself from saying a word, as Chandler stared at it for the longest of time. "You got me an envelope? Letter? You wrote something to me as a gift?" Chandler thought that was quite odd.

Hunter smiled weakly, and then said. "Well, it is a wonderful gift, isn't it?"

"I guess," he can hear the disappointment in Chandler's voice. The brunette knew that he was expecting far more than a simple letter so to speak – even though he wasn't expecting a gift, which made it sound strange to Hunter. Chandler slid open the envelope, and then strategically paled.

Chandler pulled out the token that Hunter hoped that he'd realise was buried in the letter. "A ring. What does it mean?"

"Well, it's a ring," Hunter shrugged. "I suppose it can mean whatever you want it to mean as long as it is not an engagement ring. I'm far too against marriage."

Chandler nodded his head, and his body was filled with excitement and exhilaration. "Anything?"

"Anything, love," Hunter responded once more, though now felt like his words would come back to horrifically haunt him soon enough, and oh, it did just that.

Chandler grinned, and oh, his grin was too wide for Hunter's heart which was now a victim. It melted, as well as his existence. His being was now in his boots. He was overwhelmed by the loveliness that was his Chandler, and wished Chandler would realise how lovely he was as well.

"Great," Chandler was now smirking, and Hunter knew that the outcome of this would be something that he would regret though he didn't think that he'd come to regret it so soon. "Alright. This ring symbolises _you_ promising _me_ to try and be more optimistic about life."

Dear Baggins, was Chandler serious?

Hunter raised an eyebrow, and shook his head, but Chandler was adamant. He had his point powerfully across right now, as he slid the ring into his finger, his right finger. "Why is that ring on your right?"

"Because I'm always right," Chandler had responded, too gleeful for his own good, but the boy deserved it after the years of self-doubt and mindless sadness that he had to go through, that Hunter had to watch him go through.

There will be no tears shed tonight.

Hunter picked up a glass filled with water. "And a toast to you, lovely."

"A toast to me," Chandler repeated Hunter's statement, causing Hunter to laugh. Chandler's eyes were back onto the menu. Hunter knew that the blonde couldn't help but stare at the menu. "Oh my God," Chandler's face nearly turned purple. "The prices…"

"Are outrageous," Hunter agreed, as he added on. "Which is why Charlotte and I are paying. However, you are free to order whatever you want. Try to stay clear out of the wine menu, as we do not want any messes tonight."

Chandler nodded, but he still shook his head. "Still, Prada, are they actually like going into the ocean right now, catching the fish, bringing it back and coating it in bread crumbs they made with their own hands? Are these filets encrusted with diamonds?"

"Chandler." Hunter gave him a look that practically told the blonde to pick any dish he wanted as long as he did not make a comment about the putrid prices that there on said so known to be elegant, exquisite dishes.

Chandler had finally submitted, allowing himself to order some of the more lavish dishes. It was a nice night, Hunter concluded, and something that Chandler well deserved after the years that he'd been pushed around in.

That very night was one that Chandler would remember, and Hunter was glad to be a part of it though Chandler did say never to come there again – something about the dishes being far too expensive (though Hunter had repeated it for the fifth or sixth time that he and Charlotte would take care of it) and the portions being enough to feed half of the blonde.

It gave the brunette a bit of food for thought. He'd always been to these lavish type of restaurants for breakfast, lunch and dinner back home when his parents' business were flourishing. These were the size meals that he was accustomed to, dollops of food on the plate separated an inch or so apart from each other. Small potatoes, a cup of rice, and very small servings of peas.

Dessert and starters were out of the question most days. They felt like rewards to Hunter. Which was why when Hunter had come to America, he was faced with all kinds of people – but mostly, he'd noticed the more muscular type.

They made him look like a child, and soon enough, he realised that he did have a body of a child. Underdeveloped, undernourished, and this was what drove him to steroids.

Steroids were a thing of the past, but it was one of the reasons why he'd even met his current boyfriend.

Hunter remembered the memory as if it had happened a few hours ago. Sometimes, he felt as if it did, because Chandler still made his heart flutter just as he did on that particular day.

Hunter had been sitting outside on the porch of his house, when he saw Chandler first. He was short, and that was what made him noticeable other than the glasses that were larger than his face. The blonde approached him to give him a flower, and Hunter took it with much confusion in his hands.

_Flower for your thoughts?_

Hunter remembered the smile that found its way to his face, it was so wide that it hurt to smile. _Why approach me?_ He'd asked the blonde.

Chandler's answer was simple, _you look so lonely. _

Chandler sat down beside him then, and they shared thoughts. Hunter told him one of his stories – the one about the steroids, and Chandler told him one of his own – the one about his low self-esteem. Hunter's story may be a thing of the past, but Chandler's still recurred every single day.

He'd heard that Chandler did not have a proper time at school, and all was proven when Hunter got a glimpse of the blonde's report card and realised there was a senseless stream of D's and F's that caused Hunter to need to projectile vomit.

Simply because this was not his Chandler.

He tried to speak to him, but Chandler wouldn't tell him anything. Hunter had settled for no answer at all at some point. He was just somewhat glad that Chandler's grades had increased after some point, but it still didn't change the fact that there was something wrong with Chandler, something that was constantly playing on the blonde's mind that Hunter had no idea about.

Hunter took a deep breath. He can only hope that Chandler would tell him, and tell him now that the days were over, yet the blonde showed no sign of doing so.

Hunter didn't want to ruin a lovely night, so he took Chandler home. He'd borrowed one of Chandler's longer hoodies, and had worn it considering that he was going to go out once more, but couldn't be caught in such formal attire.

By the time he'd stepped out of the bathroom, Chandler was tucked into his bed, tightly clasping on his teddy bear, sound asleep, and drooling into the furry stuffed animal.

Hunter chuckled to himself, and then leaned down to press his lips against Chandler's forehead before he left.

He'd met up with one of his more so sardonic and stress-inducing friends.

Hunter walked in to find that Sebastian Smythe was waiting for him, decked in baggy clothing. Hunter found this an interesting thing about Sebastian – either his clothing was so tight on him that Hunter can see a clear structure of Sebastian's anatomy or they were so loose that Sebastian looked like his wardrobe attempted to swallow the boy whole.

"And if it isn't the boy who cannot dress himself," Hunter greeted Sebastian, whom put the tea cup down to stare at the brunette's face. "You're looking particularly shitty today."

"Thank you," Sebastian sarcastically called out. "I'm in the privacy of my own house. I don't have to look like something you'd bang without a second thought."

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "You've never looked sexually appealing to me," the shorter brunette confessed, causing Sebastian to snort.

Hunter was just about to sit down beside him before he noticed the conflicted look that rested upon Sebastian's face, as he stared at the thick navy hoodie Hunter was wearing.

"Sebastian?" Hunter watched the brunette stare at him with confused eyes.

Sebastian Smythe shook his head. "Just your hoodie…reminds me of this…nerd I know."

"Nerd?" Hunter obviously was starting to feel a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew Sebastian could be violent but he had no idea how. He sat down on the couch.

"Yeah, this little bitch named Chandler Kiehl," Sebastian had shrugged.

Hunter's heart was hammering in his chest at the mention of his boyfriend's name. He looked straight at Sebastian, almost as if waiting for the brunette to say something else. The term 'bitch' told Hunter that he was not going to like what he was to hear at all.

Sebastian said nothing, so Hunter asked questions. "What about this…nerd of yours then?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Goes to the same school as me," a detail Hunter should have paid attention to a while ago now that he was thinking about it. "He's someone I push around."

"Define 'pushing around'." Hunter's voice was filling with more rage now.

Sebastian looked confused at Hunter's fascination with the blonde, and Hunter did not care. He was honestly trying to restrain himself from caving the brunette's face in. "What the fuck? Hunt, why do you care?"

"You are aware that Chandler is my boyfriend?"

Sebastian's jaw dropped and his eyes suddenly filled with shock. "Fuck, really?" he said, voice filled with surprise. "Why the fuck settle for someone like—"

"SEBASTIAN!" Hunter had broken Sebastian out of his trail of thought. "What did you do to him? ANSWER. ME."

There went keeping his rage in check. The brunette before him was turning rather pale, and Hunter couldn't help but grab Sebastian by his shoulders and propel him backwards to his own wall.

"You." Hunter realised, with sudden darkness in his eyes. "_You_ are the reason that Chandler comes home with bruises he tries to hide. You are the reason why my boyfriend was hospitalised time and time again, and why he would not tell us why. You. You. My best friend really is a prestigious asshole that thinks nothing of other people. Ha!"

"Hunt, you are honestly scaring the shit out of me-"Sebastian was cut off by Hunter's voice.

"Oh, please, will you shut it?" Hunter spat out venomously. Sebastian was silent right now. Hunter had never been more happy for the fact that Sebastian's parents were out tonight, as Hunter had crashed Sebastian backwards.

The brunette tripped over the black cord, and crashed straight into a purple lamp which broke into pieces. Hunter can bet that there were pieces of said glass digging into the brunette's back yet he simply could not care.

Hunter stood over Sebastian's face. "You deserve immense pain for the rest of your life," Hunter finally decided. "You are nothing to me."

Sebastian nodded his head. Hunter knew that the brunette was aware of how much he hurt Chandler. Hunter kept on remembering how it felt like to walk into that room and see Chandler on that hospital bed, vulnerable and sad, and nothing that Hunter or Charlotte can say would cause Chandler to tell them what happened.

Hunter swore that he'd destroy whomever made Chandler feel this way. Right now, Hunter was being merciful.

Sebastian looked up with big, green eyes. He looked guilty, remorseful, but that meant nothing to Hunter now. He simply left the brunette, whom had tried to stand up. Hunter glanced back to see that Sebastian's white shirt was stained with blood on his back.

He tried to restrain himself from returning to the brunette and tearing him limb from limb.

He got to his car, and drove off with far too much rage and restlessness. He got to Charlotte's house, and asked her if he could stay the night. Although it was late at night, Charlotte had agreed simply because of the dinner that the brunette had arranged with her.

The guest room was small, and far too white for Hunter's appeal, yet it would have to do for now.

Hunter sat down onto the bedside; feeling rather drained out of any gleefulness, and then laid down on the bed, sighing deeply to himself.

Somehow, he did go to sleep even though he was sure it was going to be a night where he wasn't going to sleep at all.

He woke up late noon, and walked downstairs with a look of pure concentration and determination in his face. Chandler was taking spoonfuls of sugary yoghurt and seemed to greet Hunter with a smile. The smile faded when he realised the look on Hunter's face.

Hunter knew it too. It was a look of pure and utter solemnness and seriousness.

"Chandler," he took a deep breath. "Why did you not tell me about Sebastian?"

Chandler froze dead in his tracks, and Hunter knew he uttered a name that should never be spoken in these four walls. "How do you know about Sebastian?"

Hunter furrowed his eyebrows. "It's not every day that I figure out my best friend is also my boyfriend's bully."

Chandler's stomach was churning. He didn't even realise Hunter had any reason with Sebastian, and it was simply clear to Hunter with the boy's own body language. "I'm sorry," the blonde responded, for both not telling him and for the loss of friendship that had happened.

"It's his own fault," Hunter decided. "He brought it on himself."

Chandler nodded his head, and finally confessed to the words Hunter had wanted to hear for so long. "He used to bully me quite a lot. He said things that made me hate myself, and he said things that made me feel ashamed of what I was and who I am and…I just don't like him," the blonde finally concluded.

"He put you in the hospital," Hunter realised, and Chandler nodded his head.

"To be fair, Sebastian's really wimpy and weak. He got two other guys to beat me up but…yeah…" Chandler shut his eyes.

Hunter didn't care about that. It was Sebastian's own fault that Chandler was so targeted, and he wished that he could've done something then. Now, all was gone, and the only thing they can do was merely move forward.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	3. 3

_i should probably respond to these comments so i shall. :3 they're shiny comments so i feel obligated too. hope i didn't miss anyone. now, can't say that this will be here every chapter since i suck at giving comment responses._

_XXXNiffTresTradThadbastianXXX - i like hurting those poor boys a lot. and omg i don't even know how this pans out. xD. i have a very very rough general outline for this, which is why i have this...'oh, be aware that i can totally pull up something new' thing with me._

_PenMagic - omg you don't know how much i hate starting a fanfic. i keep on thinking that i'm moving too forward (people tell me it's the opposite) but i'd like to think it's nicely paced without being too much at once. and when i read the review for the second chapter, i just smiled. _

_TinkotheWolf - of course there's Hunter. Hunter, Hunter everywhere~ oh your interest on how Seb is going to be bullied is answered here. :3 as for reasoning, i don't think it's coming up anytime soon. the phone call was so fun to write i tell you that! i would've said they were friends but it didn't fit in the summary. xD and yes, you are right! year gap is here. _

_FanofChrisCMaxA1 - thank you, honey! i hope you enjoy the rest of it. _

_Dreamy-Pikat - because i'm chaaaaaaaaarming, love. shhhh just wait until i do other threesome OTPs with Sebastian and Chandler. Finnbandler and Kurtbandler is a thing in my universe. even Santana/Chandler/Sebastian. i am going to hurt you with my fiction._

_Reader - i shall, honey. _

_Guest - awwwww i love them too. :3_

_enjoy Sebastian's point of view, which is littered in cussing even in the narrative. oh boy._

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3

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Quite a few months had passed since Sebastian Smythe had last laid his eyes on Hunter Clarington – if anything, it had been a whole damned year, and now, he was facing him straight on and the brunette didn't want to admit it but he was scared shitless.

Hunter wasn't looking at him, which was expected after he figured out that he'd been pushing around his boy like he was the most useless human being on the planet.

The glass incident had left very disturbing scars on the brunette's back that he was ashamed as fuck about. He'd had boys he'd fucked ask him about it to which Sebastian would oh so eloquently choke on the tequila he shouldn't have been sipping.

He thought he had the most perfect skin, and it was one of the things he took pride it and now, he had fucking scars everywhere which scared the shit out of him that he'd have to explain it to someone one day. He just told the assholes that he slept with that he didn't like to talk about it. It made him sound like the victim. He always did.

The thing was that those scars that Hunter had unintentionally formed on his back were only the first of many that soon followed. The second he slid into the fuck-up that was his law school, then shit had been going down.

He was slapped around, punched around, shoved around – everything that he used to make dear old Phil and Gary do to Chandler, and it hurt like fucking Hell.

It wasn't like he couldn't handle this shit, but it was that he totally couldn't handle this shit.

Every night, the brunette was punished by these assholes. What did they want from him? He wondered if the blonde had the same thoughts. Probably. And he put them there.

"Hey," Sebastian finally decided to break the silence that was an occupant of the room for a whole fifteen minutes.

"Excuse me? Did I hear someone?" Hunter's voice was still filled with anger.

Sebastian shut his eyes. It wasn't like he could be pissed at Hunter. He had no right to be, because he was the one that screwed everything up and all that shit. He sighed deeply, and then added on. "I know you're pissed at me, but it's been a year, Hunt. At least pretend to be nice to me."

"Let me think about that," Hunter pulled a face that made a sinking feeling appear in Sebastian's stomach. "Do you honestly deserve it?"

Sebastian thought it was one of those rhetorical question things so he didn't answer, but Hunter was staring at him with hard, wide eyes, waiting for the brunette to respond. Shit. Sebastian didn't know what to say to that. "Do you?" he repeated, his voice high.

Sebastian shook his head, not wanting to be pitied. He honestly thought he deserved it. "No," his voice was low.

"Good," Hunter did nothing to quell Sebastian's sudden attack of self-esteem issues that came from the incessant bullying that those assholes in his law school gave him. "Now, will you please shut it? Your presence is making my skin crawl."

Sebastian nodded his head very slowly. He did what he wanted to do when he came into that room, print some papers with the card he made. He left straight afterwards, feeling completely dejected.

"Well if it isn't _Seabas_."

Fuck. At least come up with a more original name. Sebastian sighed deeply, and turned around to face the accumulating mass of bullies. He wanted to burn them to ashes, and then realised that was probably not the most practical thing to do.

The main bully was some asshole named George. How intimidating was that name anyway? George.

"You're looking fine nowadays," the boy with smooth ash blonde hair said. "You know, if you'd stop with that ridiculous hair style and stop looking through your Mother's closet."

"Asshole," Sebastian responded under his breath.

"Excuse me? What did you say there, honey?" George asked, grabbing the brunette by his shoulder and pushing him close to him so that Sebastian can smell the spice of George's cologne. "You want to be punched in the face?"

The hilarious thing about George was that he was such a threat, but he had an average built. He didn't have much substance to him, neither muscle nor fat. He still could punch the snot out of Sebastian's nose if he wanted to.

Sebastian snorted. "I'll take whatever you have for me. It's not like you're not going to make me into mash if I don't talk back."

"At least you're smart, you ugly fuck," George muttered, propelling Sebastian backwards and straight into the water fountain. He slid across the puddle of water just beside it, and his head hit the stony structure.

Just as the brunette was distracted by the pounding in his head, George had walked in the same direction. He 'accidentally' stood on Sebastian's hand with that boot of his that was big enough to be a nation on its own.

Sebastian let out a yelp, and stared at the damage produced on his hand. His head was still pounding. He tried to stand up, but immediately was pushed backwards again straight back into the upper part of the foundation by another one of George's friends, otherwise known as Jacob.

"Assholes!" Sebastian called out afterwards though it served no purpose.

He turned around only for Hunter to stand there, looking completely amused. The sadistic bastard was taking so much pleasure from the events that happened a few minutes ago. "I see you're having some trouble."

"Yeah," Sebastian can't help but keep all the anger battled up. Fighting with Hunter about his pleasure was a losing battle. Sebastian knew he was an ass, and that was why Hunter was flying on rainbows when he found out that oh so evil Sebastian was now being pushed around like a punching bag.

"You deserve it, you realise. This is mere karma," Hunter snorted, shaking his head. "The universe restoring itself, and so on."

Sebastian nodded his head mutely again.

Hunter looked conflicted on whether or not to take pleasure from Sebastian's pain, but Sebastian didn't wait enough to see Hunter to derive to a conclusion because he had gone off down to his room.

As far as he knew, he was a body of evil that didn't deserve anything. Sebastian's room was petite, and oh, his roommate was of course Hunter Clarington just because the world despised him that much. Fucking Hell. He didn't think that anything could be so against his favour, but apparently, he was wrong.

He pulled off his shirt to see if the assholes had added assault to yesterday's injury, and realised that yeah, they definitely did. The small faded purple bruises that had begun from his right wrist and went up towards his shoulder were now much more purple than yesterday.

Fuck.

He turned around to stare at his back, where he had a cluster of yellow-blue bruises accumulating to his left shoulder. Fucking attractive, wasn't it?

He pulled his shirt up against his frame, trying to avoid the mirror all together. He hated how he looked like, loathed every sect of his stupid damned body. He hadn't had sex that he was sober enough to remember what happened in a shitlessly long while.

He lay down on his bed, and decided that the least he can do was try to understand half the stuff that was on today's lecture. Everything was hard, every bit of it, and he loathed that too. Sebastian was staring directly at the information that was before him, not allowing his pride to get to his head.

Wait, what pride? Yeah. Exactly.

He just read. By the time an hour had rolled around, he found himself in a mass of printed lectures covering his bed, and a notebook on his lap where he was allowing all the information he knew to pour into it.

The door swung open, pulling Sebastian from his intense focus on the lecture he had on human rights, causing him to stare directly at Hunter Clarington, whom didn't even meet the brunette's eyes.

Sebastian attempted to go back to writing his notes, but wasn't able to.

"Studying, Smythe?" Hunter asked, running his hand through his hair. "Shocking that you're attempting to go somewhere with your future. I thought you'd be off to one of your drinking parties."

"Fuck off," the reply was weaker than just weak for Sebastian, but he honestly didn't care. Usually, the times that Sebastian and Hunter were in the room at the same time were nearly non-existent but nowadays, it was just getting more and more all the time. "Do you really want to do this, Hunter?"

"Do what?" the brunette responded, with a raise of his eyebrow. "If I'm incorrect, please correct me, but isn't everything that you're getting right now the equivalent of what you've done to my Chandler? Honestly, you do not deserve my sympathy _at all_. There's a reason why it's called your so called 'just dessert', if you haven't figured that out."

Sebastian nodded his head mutely. "Whatever," he can't really ask anything of Hunter. He'd lost track of what sentence he was on the slide he was in and couldn't recollect his thoughts at all.

He decided to give up when his phone buzzed with a message from Puckerman.

_Hey, point Dexter, do you or do you not want to go out with me tonight? I'm at NY. Before you say anything, shut up. _Sebastian found himself snorting.

_What in fuck's name are you doing in New York anyway? I thought you were – what was it – 'allergic to big dreams' or some stupid shit like that, _Sebastian responded. He knew that N. Puckerman did not want to answer said question, but he'd probably end up doing it anyway.

Puck's response was a load of crap, as predicted. _Whatever. It's not like I'm banned from NY._

_Can't take your hands off me,_ the brunette chose to respond with a half-smirk finding itself on his face. He was enjoying this far too much for his own good. _Are you taking me out to dinner?_

_No, you're coming to my apartment and I'm gonna cook for you,_ Sebastian waited for the other response that he knew was coming. _Of course I'm going to fucking take you out to dinner. I won't sit around and be a woman to your needs. If anything, you should be cooking me food. Don't they teach you this shit because you're rich and should get married or whatever?_

Sebastian snorted. He wanted to say that he was an exception to the deal, but he honestly did have to learn all of that useless shit for 'marriage' or whatever. It wasn't like he was planning on getting married to anything that wasn't a beer bottle. _Yeah, they do. Anyway, where are you feeding me?_

_Hold on there, if I'm feeding you, then I'm paying._

_Good thing you figured that one out,_ Sebastian rolled his eyes, as he typed his thought process out. _You're the one who invited me. You have to pay for me. I'm adorable and fragile. _

_Fuck you._ Puck responded, and then gave him a few choices to where they should go, which Sebastian loathed, and Sebastian's suggestions were drowned down by Puck's hatred of said places. This somehow ended up with them agreeing to go to a supermarket and Sebastian making food for both of them – something he'd probably not ever tell anyone.

He wore a jacket, mostly out of habit even though it was as sunny as fuck outside, and he probably will hate the decision of wearing a jacket. The good thing about his jacket was that it was pretty thin instead of him wearing one of his usual thick, black ones. Yeah. Something he'd wear if he wanted to melt in his shoes or something.

He hated cabs in New York. He hated everything about New York, actually. This was only his Father's suggestion (read: demand) that he go to a law school in New York because _what if your Mother misses you? You can always just be a cab ride away from her. _

Fucking Hell. He didn't care about his Mother. She was a whore that sucked all the money from his bank account. His Father – though he was pissed at him right now – was the only decent parent in the family, though he was a spineless coward when he had to face dear old Nathalie whom he'd do anything for.

Stupid Mother.

Just as Sebastian was in his mind, Puck had come up to him with wearing a thick jacket in this shitty weather, causing Sebastian to sigh deeply when he saw him.

"By the way, babe," Puck had began before adding on. "I decided that we're heading over to your place."

This was bad. Sebastian shook his head. "To my Mother's place," he corrected.

"Yeah. There."

Sebastian wanted to punch Puck in the face, but then smirked. "Then you'll love how our groceries would look like. It's great because she was bugging me to go get her some groceries for like…a whole month maybe? Whatever," Sebastian hoped that he'd go there on a time that his Mother wasn't there in. He had to visit her twice or thrice a week just because she wanted to see her so called 'grew up so fast' baby and then leave him in the house stuck for the whole night whilst she went out clubbing. Really.

Those were most nights, but some night, she stayed in and tried to make him eat his vegetables. Yeah, fucking right.

Puck realised what Sebastian meant when he was looking through the produce aisle and dumped nearly half of it in the cart. "You're kidding me."

Sebastian only shrugged with a smirk. "You wanted to go to my Mother's house. She won't let me bring any crap in the house."

"You're fucking kidding me," Puck repeated, only for Sebastian to dissolve into laughter.

After a shell-shocked Puck was dragged around the grocery store meaninglessly, picking up anything that looked good – only for Sebastian to put it down and pull him towards another aisle.

After forty-five minutes of intense shopping (aka dumping anything that Sebastian knew he'd never willingly eat in his life), and then throwing it in the cart. He went to pay with his Father's credit card. It was an absurd amount, causing Puck to raise his eyebrow.

"I'd hate to be your Dad," Puck muttered, looking over the groceries. "Did you really have to get everything that was on offer on the organic shelf?"

"He deserves it," Sebastian's voice was low and undetectable, causing Puck to raise an eyebrow.

"Fucking Hell. You two are _fighting_. What is it this time?" Puck looked too gleeful right now. "Did you hurt his feelings when you said you hated your Mother's guts or something?"

"I hate New York as much as you do, honey. I didn't decide to stay here. He made me stay here so that I can visit my Mother two or three times a week. Fucking Hell," Sebastian explained, crossing his arms over his chest. A sudden feeling of sadness overwhelmed him.

Puck had taken the card away from the cashier the minute that he realised that Sebastian was in a sudden trance. He snapped his fingers, causing Sebastian to blink, shaking his head. "What? What happened?" Sebastian noted the card, and grabbed it from Puck. "Yeah. Whatever. Okay."

"What the fuck was that?" Puck asked with a raised eyebrow. "Spit it out. What is going on?"

Sebastian bit down his lower lip to prevent himself from insulting Puck, even though he wanted nothing more than to do that right now. He calmed himself down before he said his story. "I got into a school I've been fucking killing myself to get to that's in Massachusetts. You've seen my grades with the IB and shit. I've done everything as perfectly as possible, and I got in and he said that I can't go there because I have to see my Mother. Massachusetts. Not that far off from here, you know? But he said no. He said I'd be so fucking caught up in studying that I won't see my Mother even if it really isn't that far away. Gag me with a fucking spoon. He's not an asshole, but he's my Mother's bitch and would do anything she says."

Puck snorted. "Come on. Look at the bright side of things," the Mohawk-ridden male stated. "At least you don't have to study that much."

Sebastian knew that with the university curriculum that he was in, he was passing with incredibly high marks without really trying. He raised an eyebrow at Puck, whom was just shrugging.

"What?"

Sebastian nodded his head at Puck very slowly. "By the way," he said, voice filled with rage. "That university I was talking about that I was fucking literally killing myself to get into? Yeah?"

"Come on, Bas—"

Sebastian cut him off one more with one single word that would finally get his point across to Puck. "Harvard."

Puck's eyes widened in an instant. "You're fucking kidding me."

Sebastian looked down at his feet, and then looked back up at Puck with hot tears filling his eyes. "Do I look like I'm joking?" he asked, shaking his head.

He wiped the tears away from his eyes before they spilled. "I hope you like oatmeal, asshole."

* * *

_so far from what i have written (and why do you think i upload so fast? i have seven chapters of this written), this chapter is my favourite then again i am the biggest Sebangst whore on this planet. :)_

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	4. 4

_sorry for disappearing like that. you all know that May is an exam month and for me, quite a bit of June as well. xD. now that the celebrations and so are gone and are out of the way (that sounds so morbid), i can now focus on updating this then!_

_alright. first as to comment responses, to **PenMagic**, Sebastian applied for Harvard, got in, but his Father would not let him go because he'd be 'too busy' to focus on his Mother's needs. :) for the added angst of course. and i don't know, for me, Puck and Sebastian just fit as both close friends and mortal enemies. it just works that way. :3 to **TinkotheWolf**, it's never weird to find sympathy for Sebastian in a fanfic i write. xD. i always put it in to incorporate as much Sebangst as possible. Hunter is sort of here and there - he's rational and irrational i think? yeah. :) yay for Sebangst. -dies from hugging-_

_alright! chapter! in Chandler's point of view this time. it's two chapters with Chandler's point of view, two with Hunter and the after those, two with Sebastian. yup. _

* * *

4

* * *

Chandler Kiehl placed his pencil on a desk after he finished his artwork, and found himself smiling rather brightly. Art school, school of the arts – writing, arts, dancing…every kind of art there for him, fleshed out and embodied.

It was simply perfect for the ex-boy that used to be bullied, to be exposed in a society where everyone's scars and wounds were placed so clearly before him.

The only way he can react was with relief right now. He was in complete relief that he wasn't the victim, because they all essentially were. People of the art – they come with a story to tell, and they try to tell it. This was what he'd loved about it.

Just as he put on the final touches of the drawing, he placed it down to inspect the drawing from all angles and found himself beaming brightly. He was never good at drawing realistic or semi-realistic drawings, so he often drew anime and he adored how this came out, complicated yet careless at the same time.

He met a boy named Kurt Hummel, and then flirted with him for some time and he was glad that they could still be friends even after Kurt told him that he was dating. Now, Chandler realised the mistake with the flirting because Kurt's boyfriend – Blaine Anderson – was now loathing him with every moment.

Essentially, their relationship recently had reached a peak of fighting, and the two had separated from one another. They gave this superficial idea of them hating each other, but they still longed for some sort of positive bond with one another – whether it be romance or friendship.

Blaine was crying much nowadays, curling up in his bedside, and holding his head into his hands. He just cried. He often cried and just fell asleep afterwards.

Chandler knew that Blaine didn't do much other than cry and stay awake all night only to sleep in the morning. He barely did anything else. He barely showered, barely left the small room and barely ate, and Chandler tried to interfere but he'd always had fingers pointing towards him.

This slowly ebbed away when Blaine had immersed himself in his studies. It was a long process, a near four month process, but Chandler was happy that Blaine wasn't hurt anymore. He was showering regularly, and was barely in the room anymore. He ate properly, and looked healthier and happier. He even attempted many conversations with Chandler, but they hadn't really gotten along together.

Speaking of Blaine, just as Chandler was done with his art piece, the ravenette stepped inside, holding a tray filled with paint and his sketchbook. He'd been to a dance class a few hours ago that wasn't required of him, and that was simply an extracurricular just because he wanted to advance himself.

Chandler's eyes glittered when he saw the ravenette's face. Even though Blaine and him weren't close, he'd become incessantly glued to the ravenette. He can see that they were getting closer all the time.

Blaine looked through Chandler's creation, and then said, "Red."

Chandler looked through the patchworks of red and realised that one part wasn't coloured in as perfectly as the others, and smiled. "Oh, okay," he picked up the red colour and tried to colour it as properly as he could.

He glanced at Blaine to see that he was nodding his head. Blaine paused only to lean close to look at Chandler's laptop. The blonde only had it open to listen to music from, but the folder that Blaine was looking at was his pictures. "Can I see?"

Chandler couldn't deny the ravenette his request, so he mutely nodded his head and gestured towards a chair. Blaine grabbed one and sat down on it, completely focused on the laptop that Chandler had before him. Chandler had clicked on the first picture. "This is me in high school – all of them," Blaine looked at them with a raise of his eyebrow, as Chandler flickered past the photos.

"Stop there," Blaine said, and Chandler finally did, not knowing what the ravenette was seeing that was so obvious.

Chandler flushed, because in that picture, he was sinking his teeth into a sandwich and looked completely unattractive doing so. He was with his parents in that picture, a rare event that both parents were there.

Chandler glanced back at Blaine, whom was softly smiling. "You look happy," and Chandler nodded his head, realising that he'd forgotten how it was like to live with two parents at once. There were rare occasions where they were all together, and in those occasions was Chandler the happiest.

Chandler nodded his head. "My parents aren't always together. They're divorced but for the holidays and stuff, my Father tries to come over, or for the summer, and it's really a disappointment to me if they don't but it's like…a blessing if they do? It's weird."

Blaine nodded his head, and with a soft voice added on, "Yeah." He shook his head. "You look so…guarded in the rest of the pictures so far. This one's an exception."

"Yeah," Chandler turned to the next picture, which fitted the pattern. The blonde was decked in dark colours, and sitting on a bench. The layering he had done was thin, because Chandler can remember that weather – he was melting in his position then.

"What's with the dark colours?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"I got bullied a lot," Chandler explained and then added on. "I thought if I wore really bright colours, I'd be an obvious target?" he rubbed his neck. He didn't really think about it.

Blaine nodded his head slowly. Chandler's clothing now was insanely flamboyant, especially because he was in an art school, so he was allowed to wear whatever he wanted without any criticism. He'd busted out many clothes he'd wanted to wear, but wasn't able to.

It was strange, because to the blonde's figure, he was proportioned to be more on top, and lesser on the bottom, which made pants he'd bought five years ago loose, but shirts he'd bought some time ago tight even though he'd gain the smallest amount of weight.

Chandler had gone from buying fittest shirts to buying loose ones and from loose pants to skinny jeans because of his body's strange way of coping with any weight fluctuation – may it be weight loss or weight gain.

In that picture, he was completely decked in baggy clothing, and he looked like he was swallowed up by his own clothing. He cringed at the thought of Kurt even seeing him in clothes like that. He looked like he didn't know how to work with his body. The thing was that he did, but he was too intimidated to do so at those time periods.

It made him feel angry at himself for not doing anything about it any time sooner—

"Chandler?" Blaine broke the blonde out of his trance with an arched eyebrow. "Chandler."

"Bad memories," the blonde responded to explain the previous trance-like state he was in. Blaine slowly nodded his head.

Chandler kept on clicking through photos and Blaine was mute for the most bit, but then Blaine's eyes widened completely and he grabbed Chandler's wrist, making him halt.

"Blaine?" Chandler saw his face fill with rage, and Chandler was worried he'd done something wrong.

Chandler looked back. It was a photo at his graduation. It was one of the few photos Chandler had that was with his bully, Sebastian Smythe, simply because Chandler was made to take a picture with him and it was one of the most flattering pictures of himself that he'd ever come across.

It was shocking how well predator and prey looked well together in that picture. Chandler swore that all of his blemishes had disappeared and all of his good qualities showed in that picture, to the point where the blonde doubted it were him in that picture.

Their graduation gowns were a very dark blue and had hints of gold, and there were gaps in them that showed what they were wearing underneath quite clearly. Formal wear that was definitely for occasion.

"Blaine?" Chandler repeated, trying to pull the boy out of his trance.

"Sebastian Smythe," the ravenette called out the name like it was a disease.

Chandler didn't know how to feel about that. He agreed with Blaine. He definitely did, and that was what made the blonde feel so bad about it, because he didn't want to keep it into his mind that Sebastian was the worst human being on this planet.

"He is the biggest ass I've ever met in my life," Blaine spat out. "I'm sorry if you like him—"

"He was the one who bullied me," Chandler cut off Blaine's words because he didn't want the ravenette to have a wrong idea of his relationship with Sebastian based on one photograph where they were both smiling in. "He hates my guts. He hates me and I hate him and I only have this photo around because I look good in it."

Blaine seemed to be stunned to silence, before he nodded his head. "Yeah," he agreed. "You do look good in that photograph."

"Thank you," Chandler responded, voice soft. "I really appreciate it."

Blaine pursed his lips before he stated. "He likes me," he explained. He shook his head. Chandler didn't know why this felt like a personal threat that Sebastian didn't like how he looked like, but it did. "He tries to get into my pants. He hates Kurt. He and Kurt are like mortal enemies. You can't put them in a room without them tearing each other's skins off."

Chandler nodded his head. He can imagine the two brunettes fighting against each other. Speaking of Kurt, there was something that Chandler was trying to remember…

Blaine shook his head. "I just don't like Sebastian. That's just it. He's not a good person. He's a bully, and he's an arrogant – excuse me for saying this – asshole—"

"I was supposed to meet up with Kurt for lunch ten minutes ago," the blonde suddenly remembered. "He's going to destroy me."

Blaine laughed and nodded his head, knowing that Kurt definitely hated people being late. "I'll go with you."

"To seduce him?" the blonde asked with an arched eyebrow.

Blaine flushed deeply. Chandler was glad. He hadn't been thinking when he said that, and he didn't know his boundaries. He supposed that he got away easy this time. He picked off a Seabas-red jacket to pull over his white shirt, and black pants combination.

Blaine was dusting off a few invisible particles of dust from his shirt, and they left together, walking as closely as possible to one another.

They descended into the vast cafeteria, where they found Kurt very easily. He didn't make it hard what with his bright yellow overcoat. Chandler liked it when they matched in style choices accidentally. Kurt was also wearing a white shirt-black pants combination and a very flashy coloured layer on top, which made the blonde senselessly overjoyed.

Kurt had noticed it too, what with his raised eyebrow and quick eye inspection of Chandler's clothing. "I do not forgive you for being twelve minutes late, and I certainly don't forgive you for copying my outfit idea – though you haven't really seen me much in the past few days, so it's not like we've been exchanging what we're wearing and thus, resulting into you deliberately trying to become my twin."

"I think it's cute," Blaine decided, causing Chandler to flush. "Come on. I want to take a picture."

"Are you joking?" Kurt raised an eyebrow, with a facial expression that screamed shock. "My hair is dripping with sweat from a dance class. There is no way that I will dare let you take a picture of me when I'm in a Chewbecca-like state."

"Come on, Kurt. Chewbecca doesn't even look that bad," Blaine explained, with a bright smile. "If it helps, I let you take a picture of me when I had Spock hair."

Kurt sighed in defeat, standing up. Chandler had hurried over to Kurt's side, placing a hand on his hip and smiling as brightly as he could.

Blaine had pulled out the camera that he'd carried around all the time for his photography club. He took a few pictures, and Kurt's first instinct was to rush over to Blaine's side.

"Let me see," Kurt demanded, only for Blaine to show him, causing the brunette to frown in dismay. "Horrible hair."

Blaine laughed, shaking his head. "You look like you're dressing up for a cosplay. It's cute. Anyway, I'm _starving_."

"You wouldn't be if Chandler remembered not to be late," Kurt had responded, crossing his arms over his chest. Chandler was shaking his head, with a sweet smile on his face. "Anyway, even if you are starving, you do realise that I only sit in the cafeteria to try and take my hunger away. The food here is _disgusting_ and I will not be subjected to it any longer. It's the same as being subjected to torture; so therefore, I will do the only logical thing one can do at this point and recommend that we go down to anywhere else for lunch."

"Fine," Blaine shook his head. "I think we should go to—"

Kurt cut him off. "Dairy Queen is going to be mentioned. I know it." Blaine's cheeks colouring in only supported Kurt's statement. Kurt sighed. "We're going to go to Dairy Queen regardless, aren't we?"

The duo before him nodded his head.

"Grand," Kurt sighed sarcastically, but followed the blonde and ravenette out anyway, though he seemed less inclined to go eat with them anyway.

The drive wasn't long of course, and Blaine seemed to find his most favourite location, which was just beside a window, at the very far end of the fast food establishment. Kurt felt like he had to order Blaine around because his childlike tactics would take hold of him soon enough.

Kurt had shaken his head. "For someone like Blaine, I thought _Dairy_ Queen would be the last thing on your mind," he stated with a smirk.

Blaine's cheeks flustered. Chandler raised an eyebrow at this, and Blaine explained why. "I'm lactose intolerant."

Chandler dissolved into laughter. Blaine looked through the menu that Chandler was sure he had memorised, and then with gleeful eyes, and a bright smile, he asked, "Kurt, I'm getting a half pound Flamethrower. Okay? Don't worry. I'll leave the cheese and vegetable and bacon stuff out."

"If you order a burger that calorific, I might just slap you." Kurt murmured. "You have this thing about getting orders as big as your head, and not being able to finish it. It's exactly like the Lucky Charms situation. You pour in half the box in a bowl!"

Blaine completely paled straight afterwards. Trouble was coming their way. Chandler had caught it too.

Kurt turned around and saw that Sebastian had walked inside, and Chandler realised that a rather huge group were coming with. Chandler supposed that they were a group of some sort of club or project or something, because it didn't look like everyone there were friends.

Speaking of friends, Chandler's stomach began to hurt him when he realised his boyfriend for four years, Hunter Clarington, was in that group and looked like it was taking up all of his energy not to tear Sebastian into pieces.

Now that Chandler was thinking about Sebastian, he had noticed that even though the brunette wore long sleeves, he was incredibly uneducated at hiding bruises. Chandler can see two small ones on his hand, and a huge one on his wrist. He can also see a multitude of them running against his neck.

It made him feel a sudden self-consciousness. Chandler knew he bruised easily, but he didn't bruise _that_ easily. That or the brunette had been subjected to an accident that had left him completely blooming with bruises. Chandler didn't know why he cared but he did.

Chandler knew he had all the right to feel some sort of satisfaction, but he couldn't. All he can think of was how prideful Sebastian was – what happened to him that made him lose all of it?

Chandler shook his head. Sebastian wasn't his business. He told himself he'd lose that part of him long ago, that part that came with such bad memories. He still looked up once more at the brunette. Can he really ignore the boy's obvious distress?

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	5. 5

_now here is where we are getting somewhere. finally. _

_to PenMagic, yesssssssss i forget that im leaving you off a cliffhanger sometimes until you point it out. and i just loved the Blaine/Chandler moment hmmmmmm and oh, playing Kurt is always fun. ;) to TinkotheWolf, yesssssssssssss i'll update it much now. :3 yes, more hugs and more happy readers. oh, yes. if i'm writing Sebastian then you can bet he'd have been terribly in pain for either a while or is now in terrible, chronic pain becaues it's Sebastian and i love to prod at him with a stick (or knife)._

* * *

5

* * *

Chandler had ordered just about anything that he first saw on the menu. He was glad he wasn't a fussy eater – otherwise, this would be a problem.

"I cannot believe you," Kurt stared at a Blaine that was snickering. "The only reason you order the things you do order is to challenge my blood pressure."

"Maybe," Blaine purred, and then added on. "Or maybe it's because I'm adorable and I know if anyone else ordered the stuff I order, they're going to burn with the wrath of Hummel."

Kurt sighed deeply, but nodded his head anyway. "True," he gave the ravenette that satisfaction. "Chandler? What are you doing?"

"Looking at Sebastian," Chandler honestly answered. "He looks bad."

The blonde tried to focus on Sebastian, whom was looking really pale from last time he remembered him, when he was in rage talking on the phone. He still looked fine. Now, he didn't look fine at all. He looked like someone had taken away all of his health and put it in a bottle out of his reach. His skin was grey, and his eyes were dull. He looked dull. He looked sick.

Even if he loathed Sebastian before with the intensity of a thousand suns, he surely didn't hate him enough to get an eyeful of this. He honestly didn't even think it was possible.

"Honey, don't look at him. He's an ass. He deserves what he gets," Kurt tried to pull Chandler out of his all-saviour-like tendencies, but the blonde wasn't able to take his eyes away from Sebastian's body.

"Even the way he sits is different. I mean, he's slouchy and weak and…" Chandler shook his head. He didn't like how this looked like at all. He didn't even care about how much he liked or loathed the brunette.

"Chandler," Blaine and Kurt called out at the same time.

"No, he doesn't deserve what he gets." Chandler finally corrected Kurt's statement, shaking his head. "Nobody does."

"Chandler, lovely," Kurt tried to argue the blonde's point. "If you haven't noticed, this is the guy that brought you hell for most of your high school years. You cannot just put aside the pain that he's caused you."

"I'm not." Chandler finally decided to argue, as he added on. "My pain made me what I am. It defines me because I was able to go past it, Kurtie. His pain is destroying him."

Kurt shook his head in disbelief of the blonde's statement. "You're acting with the good of your heart. You aren't thinking properly."

"I am thinking properly," Chandler went against Kurt's statement, and then added on. "And I am acting with the good of my heart. I know what I'm doing to myself by even thinking about him, but I can't let anyone hurt the way that I did before, even if it's the person that made me feel that pain."

Kurt sighed, shaking his head. "I give up with you."

Blaine was silent, but looked very invested in the conversation. He just didn't have much to say, but both boys can tell that Blaine was indeed listening to their conversation.

When their orders came, all Chandler can do was pretend to be interested in it. Kurt was incredibly silent, and was observing the group of law students all jammed up in a huge table before them.

Hunter had caught Chandler's vision and this made the blonde wave at him. This made Hunter smile, and he looked like his mood completely disappeared.

"Who's that?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Another law student asshole," Kurt deciphered, which got on Chandler's nerves more than the five-foot-eleven brunette before him realised.

"My boyfriend," Chandler spat out, not wanting to sound edgy but ending up sounding so anyway.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, and Blaine's reaction was similar. "I thought you flirted with Kurt," Blaine looked like he was all the more confused as to why.

The blonde's cheeks burned with a soft rosiness as he explained. "I kept on telling you I wasn't a threat to you and Kurt's relationship or anything. Hunter actually told me to flirt with Kurt because he wants to build up my confidence. It's a weird story."

"That's cute," Blaine finally commented, smiling weakly. He shook his head.

"Yeah," Chandler didn't like bringing up those times when they were all fighting because of those five minutes that Chandler spent flirting with Kurt, but it wasn't bad at all right now. "It did help a bit though, because Kurt looked honestly flattered, and I thought that maybe, I could…"

"You could," Kurt completed that statement before Chandler can say anything. "You can make anyone smitten over you, Chandler."

"I don't believe that," the blonde responded, but said nothing more. He looked over his order of chips to stare straight at the boys before him.

One of the boys with chopped black hair began to speak. "Alright, let's get to it then. You all know your parts, so do them. We'll put them on the poster, and that's it. We're done in one meeting and you assholes better be done because I'm going to spend the night doing your parts."

Chandler watched Hunter nod. It sounded good in theory – grab a bite to eat, finish one's work…but he didn't like the atmosphere evoked by the black-haired boy at all.

"They're working on some project thing," Kurt muttered, rubbing his neck. "Nothing that should be interesting." He gave a look towards Chandler.

Chandler nodded his head, and was absent-mindedly eating his chips whilst watching them work. "I know. I just…"

Kurt shook his head, not really wanting to hear it. "Oh, Chandler."

Chandler's eyes went down towards Sebastian again, noticing that the brunette had opened up his laptop, and had a few printed out lecture notes on his lap. He was incredibly quick with his typing, and seldom glanced up and down his lectures – nearly as if he was validating an idea rather than absorbing what it meant.

Chandler crammed the rest of his chips down his throat, and swallowed it down with the vanilla milkshake he had beside him, completely invested in Sebastian whom hadn't even glanced at anything but his laptop and paused only here and there to take a quick sip from a chocolate milkshake.

Sebastian was done rather quickly, causing Hunter to raise his eyebrow.

"We'd destroy you if your quality of work isn't the best it could be. You do realise this, don't you?" the boy with chopped black hair asked when Sebastian announced that he was done.

Chandler actually was worried for what that meant, but Sebastian seemed to only nod his head. "It's good," he looked back at his screen. "I promise you. I sent it to all of you. Read it. It's good."

Hunter was hot on that task, and Chandler felt a sudden sinking feeling form in his stomach. Hunter was just enthralled, and will always be unhappy with how Sebastian used to treat Chandler, but the blonde didn't like the brunette's treatment of the ex-bully that was sitting on the chair, looking like a small fish caught in a big sea of sharks.

"It…would have to suffice," Hunter sounded like he didn't like the sound of that.

Sebastian breathed out a sigh of relief, and Chandler didn't blame him. The black-haired boy nodded his head. "This would have to do. I guess."

Sebastian nodded his head very slowly. "Yeah, thought so." He snorted. "Don't doubt me, Richard."

"I will doubt all I fucking want," Richard responded with a raise of his eyebrow. The black-haired boy didn't seem too pleased with Sebastian at all, for reasons that were unknown to Chandler. "Then wait for us to be done."

Sebastian nodded his head. "Whatever," he stated.

"Chandler," Kurt had brought the blonde back into their reality in their small table at the back of the building, and Chandler broke his eye contact with the table to look at Kurt. "We're leaving in fifteen minutes, so you have better be done with your food."

Chandler grabbed the sandwich on the basket, and mindlessly crammed it into his mouth, not really tasting it. Every now and then, he'd sip the vanilla milkshake. His eyes were still laser-focused on the law students that were working on some sort of project.

Just as Chandler was done a bit over fifteen minutes later, the trio paid and they were just about to leave when Chandler heard words he did not want to hear at all.

"You know, just as we're all done with our parts, I keep on comparing it to yours. Sebastian, I think…you may have to redo the entire thing just to fit in with our more so unbiased style. If you don't mind that is," Hunter pointed out with a rather self-satisfying smirk.

"I think…" Richard began, nodding his head. "Hunter's right. Gentlemen? Ladies?"

The whole group seemed to erupt into laughter, causing Sebastian to flush nearly immediately. "Fuck off," Sebastian spat out in anger, and then shook his head. "Fine. I'll do it."

Sebastian glanced very quickly at Hunter, whom seemed to not care at all about whether or not he'd hurt the brunette before him or not. Chandler stood there, frozen by shock, and a little disturbed by Hunter's words.

The group had left, and Blaine tried to shake Chandler so that he'd leave, but the blonde couldn't. "Go," Chandler instructed to the brunette and ravenette before him. "I just really need to talk to Sebastian."

"Bad idea," Kurt sang out in a very low voice. "_Baaaaad_ idea."

"Thanks, but I'll still go talk to him," Chandler saw Kurt finally nod in approval and Blaine made a 'call me if he gives you any trouble' gesture that Chandler would probably completely ignore. He waited for the two ex-lovers to leave before the blonde had moved towards Sebastian.

He sat down beside him, where Chandler got a glimpse of Sebastian's part. He'd only read two sentences, and he'd skimmed through these sentences, but it was enough for the blonde to know that it was probably good enough, and they'd just wanted Sebastian to do it all again.

"Hi," Chandler greeted the brunette.

"Hello," Sebastian's voice had a small edge, but it was weak, and if it wasn't enough to intimidate Chandler, then it wasn't threatening at all. "Candy."

"Sebastian," Chandler gave a quick nod towards Sebastian, whom wasn't actually looking at him at all. He was focusing on trying to find a way to rewrite his part.

Sebastian was silent for a few moments, and dully stared at the screen. Chandler tried to pull Sebastian towards him with a tug at the boy's shoulder. "Sebastian?"

The brunette showed no response, and by the movement of his eyes, Chandler can tell that Sebastian was rereading what he had written and just couldn't find anything to change. He didn't move to change even the smallest words. He finally decided to close his laptop and put it in his case.

Chandler knew the brunette had a right not to answer Chandler's inquiry. After all, it was all the blonde ever wanted – he used to wish that Sebastian would stop pestering him. Now, the situations were swapped.

"Look, Candy," Sebastian began, voice rougher than usual. "I appreciate that you have a right to gloat at karma and shit, but do me a favour and fuck off."

Sebastian had gotten up from his position, straddled his laptop bag by his shoulder, and stuffed his lecture notes into a huge file. He picked up his Android and left his chocolate shake virtually untouched. Chandler watched him for a few moments, but didn't really say anything.

When Sebastian started to move away from him, all Chandler can do was follow the brunette outside. The blonde's face was riddled with confusion and concern. Sebastian had to stop by the corner to wait for a bus, and Chandler found this to his advantage.

It was a quiet day and lacked many people. Chandler had moved towards Sebastian with a soft look on his face. "Sebastian," he called out what felt like the millionth time in a row.

Sebastian finally surrendered, looking at the blonde with an angry facial expression. "What? What is it that you want so bad? Say it. Do it. Whatever. Just—"

Chandler had quickly enveloped the lanky brunette in a warm embrace. He looked up to see Sebastian look down at him with clearly confused eyes. "I'm sorry people are mean to you."

Chandler had noticed the look on Sebastian's face melt off from anger to shame, and then he looked sick. He looked honestly fed up, and Chandler can tell that most of that was from himself. He can see himself in the brunette's shoes – the only thing that was worse Chandler gloating was Chandler helping, because that would be the most grotesque way the universe can fuck him over, by making him unable to play the victim at all.

"Sebastian?" Chandler called out again. "Bassie?" the nickname fell out of Chandler's lips before he can realise it.

"What?" Sebastian finally responded, voice a little full of annoyance.

Chandler hoped that he'd get the brunette to answer one or two of his inquiries. "Why are there bruises on your body?"

Sebastian snorted, as if Chandler was there to see what had happened to him. "Because people beat me up just like I used to let other people beat you up," the tone in his voice sent shivers down Chandler's spine.

"I never used to bruise like that," Chandler tried to make Sebastian feel better the only way he could. "I didn't bruise that bad at all and I bruise really easily."

Sebastian didn't look like he believed the blonde at all. "Come on, Blondie. I'm still waiting for the punch line. Are you waiting for me to confess that I'm at a shitty situation so you'd gloat?"

Chandler shook his head. "I'm sad that you're hurt."

"How could you be sad that I'm hurt? I fucking let people throw you around like you were a baseball in high school," Sebastian snorted. "Let's face it, Blondie. I'm getting my – what would your boyfriend call it? – my _just dessert_. I fucked up, and now, the universe is fucking me over."

Chandler was just about to say otherwise, but the bus had come over, ending their conversation rather abruptly. Chandler watched Sebastian leave as a shell of what he once was, an occupant of a body that was no longer his own to call.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	6. 6

_the reason for why no review replies today is that every time i try to add them my internet has been dying on me so now i'm tired of rewriting the same thing. :P next chapter, guys!_

_also future warning for mentions of suicide; suicidal ideals._

* * *

6

* * *

Hunter Clarington didn't think he'd done anything that could be identified as stupid or absurd, so he didn't quite understand Chandler Kiehl's incessant irritation with him that morning.

The blonde was eating his chocolate yoghurt in complete and utter silence, and even tried to turn on the stove himself, a rare feat in the Kiehl household. The stove was simply a decoration most times.

The blonde had been so happy to come home every now and then to his Father, Chase Crawford, and his brother, Adam, whom had apparently gone grocery shopping that morning, leaving Hunter and Chandler alone in one kitchen in complete silence.

"What have I done to erect this response?" Hunter finally gave in and asked. He honestly didn't like asking, considering he liked to think that he can see the obvious.

The blonde was angrily plowing through his yoghurt. He was sending bits of chocolate across the table because he was just stirring in an incredibly amount of sugar to the already incredibly sweet yoghurt, which Chandler was eating out of a very pink mug.

"Did I forget something relevant today?" Hunter added on.

Chandler took a spoonful of the yoghurt, and shook his head. "You were…you were really unnecessarily mean to Sebastian yesterday."

Hunter honestly didn't account for something like this, mostly because the blonde couldn't be _serious_. Sebastian had brought them nothing but trouble, and here the blonde was sitting down, defending him. Then again Chandler did have a horrible Harry Potter complex that induced him to help even the undeserving.

"Chandler, he deserved it," was Hunter's first statement and just before Chandler can say anything, he added on. "He finished far too quickly for it to be of good quality. He brought it on himself. He knows it as well, which is why he doesn't argue against it."

Chandler was still incredibly agitated with him, and decided to argue. "And what's the point of you being so mean to him? It's not okay. Plus, I know that you're really observant and stuff, so you know that he has bruises everywhere and you're hurting him with words too?"

"When did you start to defend him anyway?" Hunter was getting incredibly agitated himself with the blonde. "I know that you are a good person, Chandler, but some people do deserve what they're getting."

"I can't think of one person that deserves to be walking around physically hurt, and having to endure humiliation in a public setting," Chandler responded, voice a little weaker than usual. He knew how that felt, and it hurt him that he did. It made him want to make sure nobody had ever felt that again. "I don't care what Sebastian did or did not do to me. He was your friend."

"_Was_ being the keyword here," Hunter thought of the days that they were coddled up together on the couch, him and Sebastian, and Sebastian trying to get his hands around in places that were not appropriate only for the shorter brunette to say that he was taken. He remembered nights where they sat too close for comfort, watching reruns of horrific comedy shows, and eating popcorn and pizza together. "Not anymore."

"So, you really don't care?" Chandler challenged, before adding on. "You really don't care if he's being bullied too? Because that's what's happening to him."

Hunter was amused that Chandler thought that was a winning point in their argument. "I know that he was. I've seen them push him around. I've seen them shove him into statues, or lockers, or rooms – especially rooms. They have a knack for pushing him into rooms and then locking the door behind him. I know this, Chandler. I am just that angry at him."

He felt betrayed, so betrayed that the smallest amount of displeasure Sebastian felt made Hunter gain a load of satisfaction. It was horrid, and it wasn't fair, but he honestly did not care.

Chandler was shocked, shaking his head. "And if they…they shove him into rooms, then who opens them up?"

Hunter shrugged. "I just suppose the point of putting him into a room is for teachers to get angry because they think he broke into them when they get into the room. Somehow, one of the boys always hides the key into something of Sebastian's."

Hunter knew at one time it actually had gotten so bad that the tall brunette had torn off the fabric on his skin to look for the abandoned key that may have laid in his clothing or in his bag. They were essentially using Sebastian's inability to find objects against him.

Chandler was shaking his head in complete disbelief. "That is _disgusting_."

"I suppose," Hunter didn't really bat an eyelash to it.

Chandler shook his head. "And you're letting them do that?" he asked, voice high. "I don't have any good memories with Sebastian. Actually, the thing is – the fact that he was your best friend from some time ago made me think that Sebastian can't be all that bad if he somehow found some common ground with you…because I love you, Hunter, but you're being really childish and you think it's fine until you realise how much you are hurting him."

"And did he care about that when he landed you in the hospital?" Hunter tried to retort, watching Chandler's eyes darken.

"I know what he did! I know everything he did to me. Better than you do," Chandler spat out venomously. "And I'm willing to forgive. It's useless to carry this stupid grudge around and watch him get senselessly hurt for no reason."

"It wasn't just an act of vengeance for what he did to you, Chandler. This is also an act of betrayal," Hunter quickly snapped back towards the blonde whom had all but forgotten about the yoghurt that he was stirring mounds of sugar in. "He _was_ my very best friend, and you have to put yourself in my shoes as well – my boyfriend gets admitted to the hospital, gets distant and shies away and it's all because of that so called best friend that you've shared blankets and laughs with. What would you have done?"

Chandler didn't know what to say to that, so he just took a spoonful of yoghurt to cap the silence up with something.

Hunter felt unusually giddy when he won those fights. "So, you see my point then."

"Yeah, and it's a really stupid point, but I'm not saying anything because I just realised that no matter how much sense I'm gonna say, you'd be really blinded by your own biased hatred of him and need to hurt him," Chandler responded.

Hunter sighed. He didn't think that he was that bad at all. He wouldn't let the boys do that much harm to Sebastian. Chandler was acting like Hunter was committing a murder when he was only treating Sebastian just as poorly as he once treated Chandler. That was fair, right? It was only fair.

Perhaps, Chandler just needed time to think about it.

Hunter had left the boy to his own devices, knowing that a breakfast with an angry Chandler was not a pleasurable one. He'd probably burn his eggs and add in everything that Hunter hated just so he can feel some sort of satisfaction.

Hunter had gone off to his college, and found himself standing in front of the line for the cafeteria for breakfast. He noted Sebastian sitting there all alone, looking quite uninterested in everyone else. Hunter had gotten himself a sandwich, still staring at the brunette.

He moved towards Sebastian with hopes of treating him properly, but of course, all of his intentions had disappeared in flickers of moments when he sat down beside the brunette.

"Thanks to you, Chandler and I are not doing so well because apparently, I mistreat you or the like." Hunter snorted. "Of course, mistreating for me means that I'm treating you unjustly and I am definitely not treating you unjustly you see."

Sebastian nodded his head, and asked in an annoyed voice. "What are you doing here, Hunter?"

"What have you been telling him?" Hunter wanted an answer. He honestly thought that Chandler was acting nearly out of character for someone that had been incessantly bullied towards the situation at hand. "Explain yourself, Sebastian, and I won't—"

"I didn't tell him anything," Sebastian snorted, shaking his head.

"You are such a liar," Hunter called out with a snort, and Sebastian looked away, deciding not to test Hunter's escalating temper. He grabbed Sebastian's shoulder, and pulled him backwards so that he was staring straight into the brunette's face. "Now, what did you tell him?"

"That a band of assholes pick on me," Sebastian confessed, but it was true. He didn't say much else from what he recalled, but Hunter seemed to not believe this at all, as he shook the brunette.

"Anything about me?"

Sebastian shook his head immediately afterwards. "Look, Hunt. Please. Just go," the previously arrogant male responded.

Hunter finally let go of the brunette, whom was honestly started to look rather sick. He wanted to say something to Sebastian about his current state of health, for he looked like there was honestly something physically wrong with him. "Fine," Hunter nodded his head, and left the boy to his work.

Hunter couldn't help but stare at the boy for a few more minutes, and before he can stop he asked, "Are you sick?"

"No?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Why? Why do you care?"

It was a genuine question, and Hunter had no answer to that, as he shrugged. "I suppose I don't. It was a simple inquiry."

"It's _none_ of your business," Sebastian's voice was getting a bit edgier, which only told Hunter one thing: there was definitely a sickness involved in the brunette that he loathed with his very existence – for good reason might he add. Hunter nodded his head, and was just about to leave when Richard and George seemed to walk towards him and Sebastian.

He turned to look at the brunette, whom was staring at the two boys with wide eyes.

Hunter turned around and walked down a few tables so that he had a clear view of what was to happen. He would have interfered – logically, he should instead of watching them probably beat up the brunette to a pitiful pulp, yet his anger had gotten the best of him, and he just sat there staring at the duo with hard eyes.

They walked towards Sebastian with sick smirks on their faces.

"Hiya, Seabas," Sebastian cringed, and Hunter knew why. After prying Chandler for some time, he realised that he'd been calling him Candy when he was bullying him. Of course, even the thought of it sent Hunter angry, then the thought of the incessant bullying the tall brunette was receiving made Hunter elated for some reason.

He was thriving off Sebastian's pain, yes, and it was wrong, but it felt so right.

Sebastian nodded towards them.

"What are you doing?" George asked, sitting beside him. "We should next to you, buddy. Hate for to be so lonely."

"Oh, I know," Richard was snorting, before making kissy noises towards Sebastian. "I heard you slept with Danny. You did, didn't you? That's why he got HIV."

"Fuck off," Sebastian spat out, eyes hard. "Leave me alone, Richard."

Richard grabbed Sebastian by his shoulder. Hunter found himself absent-mindedly eating his sandwich, and watching from a distance. Richard pressed his lips against Sebastian's. Hunter paused, and raised his eyebrow to that.

Richard pulled away for a bit, taking a deep breath. "Come on, Seabas. You can make out better than that, can't you?"

"Don't touch me," Sebastian spat out, though his comment was essentially useless because all it did was make Richard push Sebastian closer to him and crash their lips together again.

Sebastian shook in his place, and then pushed Richard away a few moments afterwards.

"You should've been glad that I even attempted to make out with scum like you," Richard snorted. Oh, the importance of reputation in an environment like this. Hunter was aware that if he did that in any other place, he'd be called out for something but because it was this law school that was reputation-orientated and money-orientated – everything that students said went.

Hunter's eyebrows were knitted together, and he was trying to process just what happened a few seconds ago. He watched as Sebastian stare down at the table. The tall brunette stood up to leave before George grabbed Sebastian by the front of his plaid shirt, and tried to pull him down.

Hunter knew from beforehand that the very shirt Sebastian was wearing was incredibly old, and it was worn-out to its day so when George's hand had made its way to the front, it just made all buttons erupt from the impact of George's hand. He wanted to push him down, but instead, managed to push all of Sebastian's shirt down instead.

Hunter was completely shocked. Mostly because Sebastian's chest was incredibly sunken inward for one, and because it was sunken inward, his ribcage was showing very clearly.

The tall brunette seemed to be in complete shock, as he pulled his shirt back together though buttons were missing.

"You…fucking…freak…" George shook his head in disbelief. "What the fuck was that? Do you have a black hole around your chest or something? Do the people you fuck have a fetish for that weird shit?"

Sebastian looked completely humiliated, flushing rather adamantly as he tried to button whatever buttons were left on the shirt and then looked up to stare into George's eyes. The tall brunette was shaking, and he was filled with rage.

He finally attacked George, sending the lanky boy backwards. George's friend and his defender, Richard, grabbed Sebastian by his chest and propelled him backwards. Because Richard was incredibly built, he actually sent Sebastian skidding backwards straight into the empty lunch line, where his back hit cold metal bars. This was due to the near frictionless, slippery floor that had far too much sugary juice and water fall against it.

Sebastian had fallen down to the ground, shaking rather adamantly. He stood up a few moments afterwards to walk out of the lunch room.

Hunter tried to process what had just happened. His sandwich was gone, and he wasn't carrying anything else, so his absolute first priority was to get towards the brunette.

He was glad they shared a room then for once.

He stepped inside, watching Sebastian take off the plaid shirt. It took him a few moments to honestly see that Sebastian had a very uneven curvature to his spine that probably needed a back brace. His hands were looking through the mass of shirts he had on the ground, digging to find a suitable one.

Hunter was shocked to see a certain blonde also appearing by the doorway. It took him a few moments to remember that Chandler knew where his dorm room was, but probably did not know that the tall brunette was Hunter's dorm mate.

Chandler was probably gawking at Sebastian's sunken-in chest. It was hard not to. The brunette's chest was definitely a cause for worry, and Hunter knew Sebastian's spine was less obvious to Chandler's eyes.

Sebastian found a hoodie and wore it as quickly as possible before looking up to realise that they'd been staring.

"Stop looking at me," Sebastian snapped, looking rather irritated. "Fucking Hell! Just leave me alone for fuck's sake! How many times do I have to say it? _Stop looking at me_!"

The brunette shoved in between both of them as he half-walked half-ran away from them. Chandler's jaw had dropped, and his eyes were a confused crystal blue. "Hunt," his voice was low and he didn't even remember he was incredibly angry at the brunette before him. "…why does Sebastian look like that?"

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	7. 7

7

* * *

Hunter didn't know what it was. At the back of his mind, he can remember vaguely seeing diagrams of this before in his parents' room, but he'd be damned if he'd ask them about anything after he'd cut off ties with them some time ago.

He might just have to, and that was what frightened the former blonde was that he'd have to eventually tell his parents that he needed their help.

He remembered yelling at his Mother telling her that he didn't need her. He remembered breaking beakers from their labs, and spilling chemicals on his skin. He remembered how stupid he was, how he'd let some chemicals burn off the epidermis of his skin.

He was incredibly self-conscious of his thighs. Other than their size, what he loathed about them the most was that he'd had burns there, full-fleshed fourth degree burns that needed artificiality to cover them up.

Now, this was what he was reduced to again. He was that little child that would need his parents, and he hated the idea of that. Chandler was still standing by the doorway, staring into the emptiness as if searching for an answer before he looked back up at Hunter with those big, beautiful blue eyes that made Hunter want to melt in his position.

"I don't know," Hunter had sworn to never utter those words to Chandler. He was calm as far as the blonde was concerned, but now, he was hitting a state of panic.

Chandler looked shocked as well. "You don't know?"

Hunter snorted, shaking his head. "Dammit, Chandler. No. I do not know what's wrong with him. I do know that I was acting far too childish and couldn't see the issue coming up. I did see it too. He looks sick, physically so. He may be actually sick, not just from the bullying but…" he shook his head repeatedly. "He may be fatally sick."

"Don't say that," the blonde looked sick himself.

"He may be fatally sick, Chandler, and I've done nothing but allow others to push him over the edge. Are you happy now? I admitted it. I have been too harsh on him. I've been vile. I've been putrid, and yes, he's done wrong in the past but it doesn't mean that I have to stoop to his level to gain any amount of satisfaction," Hunter shut his eyes, filling them burn with a sudden amount of self-hatred.

Hunter shook his head, and then opened his eyes. "I have become my parents, Chandler."

Chandler's eyes suddenly filled with hot tears. Hunter knew that Chandler knew his story. "Don't you dare say that," the blonde voiced edged into some sort of darkness. "You will _never_ be your parents, Hunter. Never."

Hunter didn't believe that, but he nodded his head. "I appreciate the sentiment."

"You don't believe me," Chandler deciphered the words, as he allowed those tears to slide down his cheeks.

"Of course not," Hunter felt horrid. "Chandler, I am exactly like my parents."

He kept on processing all the things he actually let him do, and for the first time since he'd actually been watching Sebastian get bullied, he'd imagined the brunette in Chandler's position. How much Chandler would hurt if any of that was happening to him. How much Chandler would hurt if he realised he'd ever degraded a human being to such a level.

"Stop saying that!" Chandler let out a sob following afterwards. "I'd rather die than let you think that, Hunter! _I'd rather die_!"

The blonde collapsed onto the ground, knees weak. Hunter had looked at the watch, realising that soon enough most students would be coming back to their dormitories because the cafeteria halls would be clear. He pulled Chandler up, and pulled him inside his dorm room.

Chandler did not stop crying, and every wail that escaped the blonde's mouth made Hunter's heart hurt.

Somehow along the lines, Chandler's wails turned into soft sobs that escaped his throat. Hunter had slid beside the blonde, holding him tightly by his shoulder and pulling the blonde close to him.

Chandler had eventually calmed down and even fell asleep. Hunter pressed his head against Chandler's chest, just because he liked to hear the sound of the blonde breathing.

Hunter stood up soon after to tuck Chandler the bedside. He fixed Chandler up in a position he liked to sleep in, and then looked through his suitcase to find a stuffed panda. He placed the said stuffed toy in between Chandler's arms and almost immediately did the blonde wrap his hands around the toy tightly and turn to the other side.

Hunter smiled, staring at Chandler, and then faced the horrendous music. He turned to pick up his Android, and took a deep inhale before he called his Mother.

He looked away from Chandler, looking straight into the window. "Hello?"

"Hunter," Clara Clarington called out her son's name. And already Hunter felt his blood boiling. He hated that woman's voice. He hated everything she stood for. "I thought you were too emotionally disabled to actually call me."

"Emotionally disabled?" Hunter spat out as if it was a joke. Fuck you, Mother. "I am not _emotionally disabled_."

"Which is why you're boiling even over the phone," she snorted. Hunter loathed being wrong, but with his parents, he loathed it even more. "Hunter, is there a reason for this call or do you just need to hear your Mother's voice?"

"I don't need to hear your voice! You don't deserve to be called my Mother," he snapped, completely forgetting why he was calling in the first place. He didn't want to bring it up. He can just imagine how she'd turn the tides around.

"Bloody Hell. You should learn to calm down. This is your problem. You have never stopped acting like a child with a raging temper tantrum."

Hunter tried to calm himself down, but it was difficult not to lash out. It took him a few moments, before he forcibly stated. "I'm sorry," it was a lie and she knew it too. "I needed to ask you about something that I don't know about."

"Oh, this is too sweet." Hunter bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something. He wanted to throw the phone on the other side of the room and find a tool to destroy himself with, but instead, he stood there with shaky hands trying to steadily hold the phone. "Say that again."

Hunter felt himself flushing. He did feel like a child, and the woman made sure to apply that to him. "I needed to ask you about something I don't know about."

"Say that last bit again."

Hunter took a deep breath. Suddenly, his lungs were on fire. "I don't know," now, that he wasn't angry, his voice sounded teary, making him feel shameful. "I don't know," he repeated.

"Alright." He can nearly see the smirk on her face. "I know you don't know. What is it that you don't know?"

"This boy has a sunken chest, as in physically has a sunken chest." Hunter was self-conscious of his own wording, and felt like he sounded incredibly stupid to his own ears. He honestly did feel like a child whom came to his parent with petty, insignificant problems, and he loathed that feeling. It was why he did not like to speak to his parents at all. "I can recall that's a symptom of something, but I can't think of what. I can't remember and he looks sick, as in sickly pallor, bloodshot eyes, and a very fatigued sort of look."

She didn't say anything for a while, and Hunter was compelled to say. "Are you there?"

"Dammit, Hunter. Think. You're not a child anymore. You know the answer to that."

Hunter's jaw practically dropped at his Mother's response. "No, I don't know! I don't know!" he yelled out in anger, somewhat glad that Chandler can sleep through a volcano eruption. "Tell me!"

"Stop acting like a child, and start thinking and for fuck's sake, please try to control your emotions." She shut the phone straight afterwards, and Hunter stood there, trying to process the fact that he built up this courage all for nothing. No answers, nothing.

Hunter threw his phone against the wall in rage. Now, that she said that he knew the answer, Hunter realised that he probably did – and he can't recall that at all.

He can't recall answers. He was at a loss, and when Chandler woke up, he'd still have no answers.

Hunter picked up his phone, and then had set an alarm on it for an hour. Chandler did not like to nap more than two hours, and he was sure an hour had probably passed already.

He placed the phone on the table and left the room with his hands placed into the pockets of his jacket. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he supposed he can head off to the library for some sort of answer.

He cannot remember the medical name for what a sunken in chest was. He can remember a list of conditions and—

He paused, noticing that Sebastian was standing with a librarian whom was nodding her head in some concern. "You should take care of yourself you know." He paused to listen to the conversation. The librarian had given Sebastian the book he'd wanted, and Hunter had caught the title. It was definitely a medically relevant book. "Don't strain your heart too much. No stressing or anything."

"Be sure to do that," he dully responded. "Thanks for the book."

Sebastian practically ran out of there after he was done talking, and Hunter found himself raising his eyebrow at this. The tall brunette must've caught Hunter being there.

He waited to see that Sebastian wasn't around before he approached the librarian.

"He's a cause for worry, isn't he?" Hunter arched an eyebrow, and the librarian nodded quite quickly, pulling her glasses up her nose. "It's such a shame that he's so distant."

"Yes, I've heard that things are hard for him around here. From some boys that go to the same classes as him," she shook her head. "Poor boy, really. Poor boy."

Hunter did not want to seem as if he did not know anything about Sebastian's condition, and that he was prying in places he shouldn't be prying at. "They have been treating him quite harshly I'd say. They even know that he's a bit strange in a physical sense."

"Physical? I thought he had a heart problem."

"Both, actually," Hunter responded, as if he knew what he was talking about, and then froze in his position. He was smacked with the answer the minute he realised that Sebastian's heart was involved. "Anywhere with connective tissue would be involved actually now that I think about it. His heart, his lungs, anywhere easily – I think for him, his heart is a more concern for him than his lungs or so on."

"Oh, that's so unfortunate." The librarian pursed her lips.

"I must be going then," he said, leaving the library. He was stupid. The answer was very obvious. He found himself having a Gregory House moment.

It _fit_. It was obvious, and that was why Hunter found himself flushing rapidly. He'd asked his Mother for something that he could easily remember if he tried hard enough. He had gone off to the room, where he'd seen that Chandler was already awake, staring at the panda in his hands.

"I'm still angry at you," Chandler whispered.

"Continue to be angry with me," Hunter tried to pretend as if the words had no effect on him whatsoever.

"You're looking happy." Chandler noted.

He was happy for the fact that he had news to give to Chandler yes, and he was glad that that was masking the shame that he felt for not knowing the answer in the first place.

He sat down, and picked off his laptop from the ground. Chandler had curled up beside him, confused. Hunter would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the feel of Chandler's head against his shoulders. Hunter opened up the page that he was looking for.

"What's that?" Chandler was confused.

"It's a genetic disorder some people have. Marfan syndrome. I think—I cannot be sure without a confirmation from Sebastian himself—that Sebastian has it," Chandler was suddenly hyperaware of what was written on the website.

Hunter then again explained his theory. "Sebastian told the librarian he had heart problems. He has a curvature to his spine that I have noticed – which is obviously scoliosis. I know Sebastian wears contact lenses. He has a sunken in chest. Now, what's interesting is that people with this particular genetic disorder are tall, thin with long limbs, and thin, narrow faces. That part really made me think it is possible that Sebastian's a—"

"Fucking freak of nature." Hunter quickly looked up from his laptop. He knew he left the door open, but he didn't really consciously think about closing the door.

Sebastian was standing by the doorway, not meeting Hunter's eyes. Hunter didn't think his heart would hurt in his chest as much as when Sebastian said those words, simply because the amount of self-loathing that were in them were rather disturbing.

"So it is true," Hunter's voice was soft.

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yeah. I thought you figured it out the minute you saw my chest," he said the word 'chest' as if it was barely a chest, rolling his eyes. He snorted his nose, and shook his head.

"Sebastian—"

"Don't try, Hunt. Don't try." Sebastian walked through the room. Chandler was completely silent, as Sebastian picked off a shirt from the ground then a pair of pants. The brunette was obviously going to shower. Hunter caught sight of dark-coloured boxers as well. "I know it. You loathe me. You don't care. Whatever. Just don't point out my…thing and I don't care if you try to murder me in my sleep, okay?"

Hunter was mute, but then nodded his head.

Chandler decided to speak up. "You won't have to worry because I'm not going to let him hurt you or aggravate it or anything," the blonde suddenly said, his voice was soft.

Sebastian snorted as if he was he'd been handed a joke. "Yeah right," his voice was filled with pessimism. "Letting your wife control you, Hunter?"

Hunter decided not to say anything when he was irrational, as he pursed his lips only to wait for himself to calm down. "According to myself, I'm probably the wife. I'm more likely to stay at home and bark at things irrationally."

Sebastian turned around to leave, deciding not to say anything of it.

"Sebastian," Hunter called out once more, walking the brunette look back with a dark look on his face, and honestly, he didn't blame him at all for it. Hunter gave him a very soft smile and nodded his head towards him. "Take care of yourself."

"Whatever," Sebastian responded, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	8. 8

8

* * *

Sebastian Smythe wanted to laugh. Hunter Clarington telling him to take care of himself? Laughable, especially after he watched most of the student body turn him into a punching bag.

He was just done with his shower. Beforehand, the brunette used to either wait until late to shower, or wait until he got home to his Mother's to shower, meaning that he only showered twice or thrice a week. Now that the whole student body knew that he had a fucked up body, he showered in college.

He loathed his body though. He loathed how he needed to get out of the showers, clad in only jeans to inspect his chest before he put on his shirt, or sweater or whatever.

That was exactly what he was doing now. He stood in front of the mirror, staring at his chest. He hated his chest. He hated how little muscle mass he had, and yes, that exactly was because of the stupid fucking Marfan's. Yes, he loved how he looked – fully clothed. Strip it all off, and he was left with shit that he hated. His skinny back, his low muscle mass, his sunken chest, the weird curvature in his spine that people can see because his back was just a mass of fucking bone and thin skin on top.

Why the fuck was he staring at his body all the time if he hated it so much? Just to confirm it really was as shitty as he thought it was. Oh, and it always was.

He pulled his shirt over his chest, and then turned around. He looked better now, and less dead. Perfect. Good. He disappeared from the bathroom, happy he did not get caught or—

Just as Sebastian was thinking, he was pushed straight into a room. He didn't caught sight of who did it, but he slid straight into the desk, which hit straight at his stomach.

He felt like throwing up now that his stomach hit the desk, but he didn't. He felt weak, and that made him unhappy. He had an overwhelming feeling in his stomach, and had found himself leaving the room slightly shaky. He wanted to go back to his room and lie down. He didn't even care if blonde and blonder were there. He just needed to lie down.

To his gleefulness, Sebastian realised that no, Hunter wasn't there, and then collapsed on his bedside to fall asleep. This didn't go as planned, as Sebastian realised that he can't sleep because of the pain in his stomach. It would subside after a bit, but right now, it was an ass.

He finally got up after twenty minutes of attempting to sleep, feeling a certain sort of emptiness fill his body. He was hungry, but he didn't want to go into the cafeteria only to be ridiculed again. He'd rather sit here and starve to death. It had simply just gotten to that point where Sebastian would rather sit for two or three hours feeling immense hunger rather than go downstairs and pick something to eat because he loathed being picked on and judged for his food choices.

Of course, this only made him feel shitty about how he did look because the last few weeks, his weight had dropped significantly, and fuck if he was going to walk around complaining about his ugly thin back when he wasn't eating enough to stay in the range he was in. He didn't even want to weigh himself, mostly because he knew the number would be shitty and because of his low muscle mass and low bone weight, he'd been too embarrassed to tell his actual weight to anyone else – mostly because they thought he was at least 20 pounds heavier and that was saying something.

Just as Sebastian was debating whether or not to go down to the cafeteria, his phone buzzed again. Puckerman, he knew because he can feel the annoying nature that was Puckerman radiating off his phone.

He picked up his phone and saw that Puck had sent him a message. He was inevitably right. It didn't help that 90% of his text messages were to and from this crazy asshole. _Coconut curry tofu shit. That's what we're having for dinner._

Sebastian snorted. _Let me get my shoes, asshole._

He swore though the Mohawk-haired boy annoyed him, he was just about one of the few things the brunette looked forward to nowadays and visiting his Mother was his least favourite activity to do.

He picked off his shoes, and then had descended downtown to meet up with the asshole that had become his accompaniment. He found himself standing by the pole for a few seconds. For once, he wasn't wearing his thin jacket.

He was fucking freezing his ass off. People normally were walking around in shorts in this bloody weather, and here, he was, suddenly in one of his 'oh, I'm cold intolerant' days.

"Are you shitting me?"

Sebastian found himself looking at Puck, whom was shirtless and wearing jeans. Fuck it if Puckerman didn't look hotter than the sun. "Dude, it's thirty-something degrees outside. I mean, yeah, wear a jacket if you're in one of your self-conscious eps, but not this shit. This shit you're wearing? I wouldn't consider wearing even if it's like negative something degrees outside."

"Fuck off," Sebastian muttered, rubbing his neck. "It's not that bad, asshole. It just looks bulky and all that crap. I thought you were taking me out to coconut tofu curry or whatever."

"No, I said I had some. My Nona came over, and now, I have like loads of this shit that I don't like. Like I don't like curry. Do you like curry?"

"You're shitting me," Sebastian shook his head. "Curries are gold, you little bitch. Of course, I like curries."

"Great." Puck muttered, and then added on. "Eat all of mine."

Sebastian didn't protest to that, as he nodded his head. He followed Puck towards his apartment, which he always forgot the directions to even though he'd been there quite a few times. The place was a dump, and smelled like ramen and cheap cologne.

Sebastian collapsed on his couch, and Puck offered him a beer. Sebastian shook his head.

"Alright. What's buzzing your head?" Puck snorted. "Smythe turning down a beer – the end of the world is approaching."

"Shut the fuck up," Sebastian murmured under his breath. Puck watched Sebastian finally pull off his coat, only to throw it across the room. It thankfully landed on his couch but even if it landed on the floor, Sebastian would not be bothered to pick it up again. "Where's my food?"

Puck snorted, and had disappeared off into the kitchen, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts.

He looked down at his body in complete distress. He'd spent five minutes probably just wondering about how his thighs can be in such a state. Somehow, he drifted off into another universe completely. He was raised into a family that was pretty 'if you have something, sweet or sour, mean or kind, or whatever, just spit it out' and that was literally the attitude he'd carried around for most of his life.

He disliked Chandler. There had always been something about him that just infuriated him. He figured that Chandler looked happy, too happy – too happy that Sebastian couldn't stand it, so he had to smash it with a hammer.

That was just it. Sebastian Smythe could not stand watching other people be happy. What was there to be happy about? Life was a salad bowl of shit, and he hated people that made it seem like it was an air of positivity. Truth be told, not only did that annoy him but it also made him feel like he was doing something wrong with his life because he can't see bubbles or rainbows every time he stepped out of the house.

Law school – now, law school – he knew exactly why he was being beat up. He was different. He was that nerd that got into Harvard that could not go into Harvard because of personal reasons. He was that smarty pants jazzy pants that aced all of his classes without even really trying.

They hated him because they were jealous of the fact that he seemed like he never studied, and shit like that. They also saw him as a target because of how weak he looked like, something he'd used against Chandler too – the fact that he was so short.

Sebastian snorted. Karma, karma, karma seemed like the only answer to his current life issues. He saw that Puck had returned with a plate that was practically Sebastian's body weight on one of the biggest plates he'd ever seen in his life. Said plaid was also stacked up high and mighty with rice, and a mound of curry sauce.

"What the fuck?" Sebastian stated when Puck had handed him the plate. "This entire plate can feed my whole family."

Puck snorted. "Your family must not exist. Eat up, and bulk up."

"The only bulk I'll get from this meal is going straight through my gut," Sebastian snorted. The brunette noted Puck's eyes giving him an once-over, and it was not in the sexy way either.

Puck's hand had drifted off to Sebastian's side. Fucking Hell.

"What are you doing?" Sebastian snorted. "I promise you I'm not carrying babies or anything."

Puck had shaken his head. "No, just…" he stared at Sebastian for some time now. "You're as skinny as fuck. Like when I look at you know, like not cute Cheerios thin, but like legit skinny, like the kind that you need to sew meat on their bones type skinny."

Sebastian wanted to retort, but found himself freezing at the comment instead. He honestly had rarely heard comments made about his weight recently, and now, that Puck had pointed it out. It made it feel real, like it wasn't just Sebastian overexaggerating it in his head or whatnot.

Whatever.

Sebastian shook his head and looked over at the coconut curry thing that Puck wanted him to try. It tasted like heaven on a sautéed duck, and he loved it. He ate about a fourth of the plate before he waved the white flag.

"You suck," Puck snorted. "My dog eats more than you."

"What a fatass dog," Sebastian commented, lying down on his couch, and massaging his food baby. Fuck. He was carrying some rice twins as far as he was concerned.

"So, what's been going on in law school land?"

Sebastian was thinking about this, deciding to shrug. "Good grades in class. Assholes beating me up here and there," he shrugged again before he paused. "Oh, I'm going into surgery next Wednesday by the way."

Sebastian honestly did not expect the reaction he got from Puck. "Wait, wait, wait—what surgery are we talking here? And who the hell's beating you up?"

"Who isn't beating me up?" Sebastian honestly saw no need to say anything about it, but then responded to his initial question. "The surgery we're chatting up here is aortic dissection – basically, heart surgery in your own words 'cause my heart is genetically fucked up but the world knew that already. Fuck, I bet half the people are shocked I even have a heart."

Puck seemed to register what was going on, and Sebastian took the time to cross his legs and just relax in his position.

"Fucking Hell," Puck shook his head. "This is the same boy that used to push around people for no reason at all? You really have lost your touch, Smythe."

Sebastian didn't say anything to that and shrugged just because he did not have anything to say about it.

"Look," Puck's voice was stern. It was one of the rare times that it was, and it caught Sebastian's attention quite quickly. "Fucking look at me, Sebastian. I'm pretty damned serious about this. What the fuck is going on? You've been acting weird ever since you moved to New York, and suddenly, you're spitting out stories about surgery and bullying?"

Sebastian didn't say anything to that. "You know, maybe I should leave and go home—"

Puck had cut off the brunette with a simple threat. "Don't make me punch you in the face."

"Go ahead," Sebastian gritted his teeth, as his eyes filled with anger. "It's not like there's anyone who doesn't want to do that to me. Go ahead. I fucking dare you to."

Sebastian knew he shouldn't have said those words. Those were Puck's so-called trigger words, and the impulsive Jewish male had actually punched Sebastian square in his jaw, sending the weak brunette backwards rather quickly. He'd gotten his balance up better these past few days, and was clutching the ache in his jaw, staring at Puck with big, hurt green eyes.

"Fuck you, Bas," Puck shook his head. "Come here." Puck pulled Sebastian upwards, and helped him steady himself. "Jesus, you're so light."

"If I hear that one more time, I will punch you in the face," Sebastian hated being reminded of how weak he actually was right now. He looked like a picture perfect representation of his preteen years, where he was too self-conscious to go swimming with the other boys because of how he was structured.

Those were the days.

"No more punching," Puck looked over Sebastian. "Are you alright? You look like shit."

"Thank you," Sebastian spat out. A sudden silence consumed the air, and Sebastian felt his knees shaking. Everything was just dawning on him. The Marfan's shit he had to go through, the surgery, the fact that he was more or less keeping this shit to himself, the Harvard situation, the bullying, his parents, Hunter, Chandler – all of those things seemed to hit him at once and seemed to knock him down against his knees.

He collapsed onto the ground and finally succumbed to the pain that he was feeling, the pain that was electrifying in all of his body as uncontrollable sobs raked from his body.

"Sebastian?" Sebastian can vaguely hear Puck calling out to him, shaking his shoulders lightly. "Listen to me, you fuck."

Sebastian's heart was racing, and he was still thinking, so he was still crying. And he cried. He cried like he was a fucking child crying out for his Mother. Ironic now that he thought about it, and then he calmed down and stayed in the silence for a few minutes.

He noticed that Puck had gone off to sleep, and was absent-mindedly holding him. He was sitting down on the ground with him. His ass was aching. He was tired, and just as he was about to leave, he succumbed to thinking about the plate of shit that he'd scraped up for himself, and hot tears filled his eyes for the fifteen fucking millionth time that night.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	9. 9

9

* * *

Sebastian had finally stopped bawling like a baby, and was now curled up against Puck's couch, playing with the hem of his shirt. Puck hadn't said anything for a while, not much after Sebastian's break-down.

The tall brunette had shifted slightly, and rubbed his neck. "I look like shit, don't I?"

Puck glanced at him and gave him that look and Sebastian knew that his statement was true. "Well, nobody's gonna look like Adonis after they bawled their fucking eyes out, asshole." Puck shook his head, and then pursed his lips. "You alright?"

Sebastian shrugged. "Dunno yet," he decided.

"Yeah," Puck said, just to add to conversation. He honestly did not know what in hell's name was appropriate to say in situations like this, and Sebastian can read him like a picture book.

Sebastian stood up, feeling the ache in his shoulders and body. He didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing he broke down like that in front of Puck, and he hadn't cried in so fucking long – like a proper whine-baby type of cry. Of course, long for the brunette was just a few weeks ago. For someone whom acted like he had no emotions, he cried more than the average human.

Sebastian rubbed his hand down his the upper part of his spine, and stretched slightly before he sat down on the couch again.

Puck looked uncomfortable, like he had no idea what to do. Sebastian didn't blame him. He didn't really think that most people came to N. Puckerman just to unload. No, that shit didn't happen. This shit wasn't supposed to happen, but it did. That was what mattered.

Sebastian began to check on Facebook on his mobile, and stopped for a moment in a fleet of concentration. "Hey, look at this."

Puck moved closer to look at the picture that Sebastian had on his phone. The brunette found himself amused, whilst Puck didn't get it. "Dude, you have younger siblings? Fuck. They're annoying."

Sebastian wanted to laugh. "Those are my parents for fuck's sake."

Puck grabbed Sebastian's phone in disbelief. "Fuck you. They look like they paused midway through puberty. What are their stats?"

Sebastian snorted. "My Mother's about 33. She had me when she was like 15. She's 5'0 or something, and is like 120 pounds. My Father's a bit older – 38-ish older. He's 5'8 to be fair to him. Like Blaine is a bit shorter than him sort of thing. My Dad's 160 and fuck you, he's full of muscle. He does not look like he paused midway through puberty. That's just an unflattering picture of him."

Puck snorted. "Is all of your family like this?"

"They're all short, yeah, and most of them are like chubby though. My Mum's one of the exceptions." Sebastian shrugged. "It's all that pork and cheese getting into their waistlines I think. My Mum's pretty cute you know, when she's not being a complete bitch. All her weight's in her DD elephant-sized boobs. Unfortunately, she's always a bitch – the only time she isn't is when I'm sick."

Puck shook his head. "Doesn't make any sense," he muttered. "You're as tall as fuck."

"Part of the whole heart thing I have. It's like a genetic disorder," Sebastian shrugged. "It's pretty shitty. I mean, I love my height now, but in my home, it was shitty because I was the only Sasquatch in my family."

Puck nodded his head, and then pursed his lip. "So, what now? You're just going to go through surgery and then what? Like about the bullying and shit?"

Sebastian honestly had no clue what to say to that.

"Part of me just wants you to fucking drop out of that law school. Get out. Go to Harvard or something. Stay there, and when your Father calls you, tell him to fuck himself."

Sebastian felt suddenly uncomfortable, shifting in his position and shaking his head. "Can't," his voice was a little teary. "I can't." He said it, as if there was nothing more to it.

Puck figured it out quick enough. Sebastian felt sick, like he was going to puke on the bloke if he came any closer. "You can't?" Puck repeated, making Sebastian hate the way he said it. He loathed him. He just loathed him.

"Wait," Puck raised an eyebrow. "Your Father, Bas? Really? You're giving that bastard a proper ass-kissing, aren't you?"

"Fuck you," Sebastian snapped at him. "Yes, yes, I am kissing his ass. I can't leave and go because I need him. Fuck. What am I going to do in Harvard all alone by myself? I have a shitty non-sociable life already. The only person I see is you and my shower."

"Yeah," Puck nodded his head. "Let go of him, Bas. He ain't doing you no good."

"Fuck you." Sebastian repeated, his voice harsher but also tearful. "You don't come into my life and tell me what to do," the brunette knew that he was out of control.

He wasn't happy where he was, and he certainly won't be okay at Harvard. The prospect of being alone for the rest of his life was distressing him more than the prospect of him being stuck with his Mother all his life.

"Then stop complaining if you don't want to help yourself," Puck finally concluded.

Sebastian wanted to protest, but then nodded his head. That was fair enough. He was mute, and he didn't want to tell anyone else his problems ever again. "Yeah," he muttered. "Whatever."

Sebastian shook his head, and said he had to be going. He left before Puck can say anything. He actually felt run down, tired and just generally unhappy with the situation he'd been put in right now, but Puck was right. He put himself in this situation. He can't fucking complain about it.

Sebastian had left the house feeling unnerved, and slightly confused. He pushed that away. He just can't fucking think about that shit.

The phone in his pocket was buzzing. He was standing at the bus stop, tentatively moving about as he waited before he paused to stare at the number of the call he'd purposely missed. His Mother.

When he hadn't answered, she sent him one message: _Sebastian, answer me._

It was a simple demand yet it set him into a spiral of rage, as he tried to prevent himself from chucking his phone across the road. He didn't need to tell his Father that he accidentally destroyed his phone because he was so horrifically angry at the fact that he had to answer to his Mother.

Hot tears filled his eyes again. Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

He decided to turn to one side, not even caring anymore if he had anything to do at this particular moment. He decided to call out for a cab instead. He wasn't going back to college. He was going to anywhere else other than college.

The cab he did get into had a distinctive smell that made him want to puke, but he wasn't staying here long enough. His destination was spat out too quickly, and he found himself repeating it quite a few times. He shifted so that his back was properly pressed against the seat.

He found himself in outside a local library, where he'd been looking tentatively at his phone here and there. His stomach carelessly coiled and he found himself at breaking point.

He had dialed his Father, pressed it against his ear in a fleet of fearfulness and a need to hear the man's voice. The French man had answered quite quickly with a soft, "Hello?" ringing into Sebastian's ear.

"Hey," his voice was a bit more tentative than he'd originally wanted. He sounded scared. Oh fuck it – _he was scared_.

The man's voice was then curt and clear. "What are you calling me for, Sebastian? I'm busy."

It was the way that the man had said his statement that made Sebastian want to snap at him quickly, as if he had no time for him whilst Sebastian was standing on the sidewalk, contemplating just about everything he'd ever known. He placed a hand on his hips just because he needed to move – he needed to do something. He was too enraged to just stand there.

It was stupid, because the man had only said one statement, but oh, the tone that he'd used in that statement was enough to make Sebastian's blood brutally boil.

He tried to accumulate some courage when he'd said his later statement. "I don't want to go to this college anymore."

"Sebastian…" the man sighed deeply, and Sebastian's heart twisted in his chest, knowing that his Father simply was going to try and get him out of whatever fallacy he was in. "Your Mother—"

"I hate Mother," Sebastian spat out immediately after that statement was made, feeling the fury fly off his fingertips. "I hate how she talks. I hate how she stares at me. I hate how she breathes. I hate how she does not give a fuck about anyone but herself—"

"Remind you of anyone?" Jean had cut him off, causing Sebastian to feel a feverish flutter in his chest.

He pursed his lips together. He knew what the man was trying to get it, yet it enraged him to no end. "I know, Dad. I know."

Jean, of course, continued to probe now that he'd placed his point across. "She is a lot like you, Sebastian."

He wanted to say a thousand things against it, and then a thousand things more, but instead found himself responding with his statements that were fuelled by his emotion and that alone. "Fine. Fine. I get it. I'm a lot like her. And I hate her, but I fucking hate myself too."

When the response made Jean quiet, Sebastian shook his head. The rage was still a component of his blood by that point. "I'm leaving." However, his voice was teary. "I'm never coming back. I won't even use your money to leave. I'm done. I'm done with you playing me around like a puppet to entertain my Mother. I just…" each word was weighed heavily with regret.

All but lapsed into silence, and then Jean's voice had dulled down drastically. "I transferred a good sum of money into your account. I will be transferring money from my account to yours each week."

Sebastian did not know what to think about that, as he allowed the man to continue talking. "Don't expect me to answer your distress calls as you wish now. Anything I do to you is an act of kindness. You and I are not bound by blood or whatever the fuck you want to say – understand?"

Sebastian's voice was terribly tearful when he answered. "I understand," he whispered.

He wanted to ask if his Father would still be there for him when he was about to do his surgery, but he supposed not. He was alone. He knew that his Father would still take care of the procedure, the time, the date, and probably still text him regularly about it, but the gnawing thought in his mind was that he'd treat it all like a partnership, and he supposed what was worse than being disconnected from the man that was supposed to love him no matter what was to have the man that was supposed to love him remind him every single time they spoke that they bore no emotional connection anymore, no attachment.

It was all gone with a phone, a blink of an eye, and Sebastian tried to steady himself from where he stood. Everything seemed to be considerably blurry and strange.

His hands were slightly shaking and his mind was filled with lead. He did not know what to do. He did not know what to say. He did not know anything at all.

He wanted to throw his phone anywhere, and then throw himself after it – preferably in front of a truck that was accelerating towards the both of them. He was crushed. He was confused. He was _sorry_.

He tried to control his emotions – tried being the keyword here. He descended down towards the library, and then used their laptops to get a plane ticket going to anywhere but here. He knew that there was a slim chance that Harvard would take him again smack in the middle of the semester, but he had to try, and try he would. Try he had to because he had no other chance.

Just as he was about to book a flight, he got a text message and looked down at his phone to see that his Father had sent him a text message about flight details and when his was at.

He wanted to laugh and cry, because his Father was confusing, but his words hurt him. They swirled into his mind even soon after. He somehow thought that his Father only let him do this because he knew he'd fail. The thought made his blood curdle, but it was not far off his Father's personality.

He finally left the local library. According to his Father, his flight was in two weeks, and he did not know whether or not to rejoice or cringe at the thought of him spending another fourteen days here in this deep, disgusting pit of hell that had come to only hurt him.

He placed his hands into his pocket, and shut his eyes as he waited for a cab. The drive back towards the college was short, but it was filled with too much thought.

He had gone off to the cafeteria to get something to eat and found Hunter in his little corner, sitting with a book in one hand that seemed rather too cute for someone with Hunter's appearance and stature. The answer to why said book was adorable was definitely in his wake, as he watched Chandler Kiehl walk towards Hunter with a tray in his hands.

Before he knew what was going on, both boys were looking up at him and gesturing for him to sit with them.

This can be incredibly bad, but honestly, Sebastian was just tired. He'd exhausted his ability to care after that draining phone call that seemed to take away all of his emotion along with it.

He walked towards them, placing his backpack down and turning to look for anything that looked edible. In the lunch line at his cafeteria, this was a terrible feat as nothing really did look edible. He just decided to get himself two cheese croissants and a can of Rockstar, not wanting to play guessing games with the menu and what was on offer.

He returned to the boys with some sort of hesitation in his shoulders. He didn't know what to expect from this. A part of him was telling him that this was a bad idea – horrid one in fact, but he just didn't know what to do.

He wasn't staying here anyway. What was fourteen more days of any kind of pain they can inflict on him? Nothing. Nothing at all.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	10. 10

10

* * *

Chandler found himself smiling at Sebastian, whom did not look like he was in the best place. At least he had gotten himself something to eat and drink – this was particularly good he thought since Hunter told him that he didn't really like doing this because people judged him too much.

Sebastian was absurdly aloof, but he seemed to be giving them a chance and oh, did Chandler _need_ to take it. It was not an option. He needed to assure the brunette in some way…any way at all.

"Bassie," Chandler thought that the nickname may let the brunette feel at ease. "How are you?"

Chandler watched Sebastian look up from his croissant and swallowing the bit that was already in his mouth before shrugging mindlessly. He supposed that Sebastian wasn't in a talkative mood at all.

"I don't know," Sebastian looked like he was responding in all honesty.

Chandler nodded his head, and looked over at Hunter, hoping that the male would initiate some sort of conversation with him. Anything. He just could not stand the silence that seemed to be at their wake.

"Um….Sebastian," Hunter began to murmur, lips pursed too tightly and eyes holding a clatter of confusion and emotion, or perhaps, that was just how Chandler was reading them. "I'm sorry."

Sebastian snorted, as if Hunter had told him a joke, and to the brunette, that was exactly what it was. "For what?"

Hunter shrugged, but he knew the answer and Sebastian can see it straight into those eyes that mirrored the emotion in Sebastian's own, downcast for what was no reason – and if Chandler was right, then that reason was a mixture of guilt, and refusing to allow all of his pride to wither away in a blink of an eye.

"I should not have reacted with violence," Hunter finally gave in and decided to say. "I do not forgive you for what you did to Chandler, but I bet you do not forgive me for what I did to you for what you've done, and I certainly find myself feeling stupid because I've been punishing you for what you've done to Chandler, but he'd never wanted me to bring any harm to you."

"Always been the good one, Candy," Sebastian muttered, and the nickname felt light, not as heavy as it did before – almost playful in some strange way. "Your boyfriend's an ass."

Hunter nodded his head, not wanting to deny Sebastian's statement. "Well, I can't say I'm a saint."

Sebastian slowly nodded his head. He ran his hand through his hair. He looked hesitant for some reason, shifty-eyed, confused.

Chandler decided to break into the horrific atmosphere with a smile. However, something was still at the back of his mind. "Bas…I just want to know," it was a thought that was in his mind for a few years now, never quite leaving, but never quite persisting itself to Chandler's downfall. "Why? Why did you…target me?"

"I hate happy people," Sebastian responded without a second thought. "I thought if I destroyed you, I'd find some satisfaction from your pain like some sort of sick masochistic or whatever."

A part of Chandler realised that he could not bring this up without somehow cleaving open the wounds that Hunter was trying to stitch up, that of hatred, but he'd hoped that Hunter had his needles out because there was going to be a lot of serious stitching involved. Chandler had too many questions, and no answers.

Chandler nodded his head. He'd accept the answer. He'd accept any answer. Sebastian had no reason to lie or sugar-coat it, and Chandler had no reason to cry because he'd prepared himself for the absolute worst answers, and what spilled out of Sebastian's mouth was more leniency and reason than Chandler had ever come across himself in the past few years.

He knew the reasons he'd cooked up in his head were far too bitter for it to be the truth. _The only reason that Sebastian bullies you, Chandler, is because you deserve it. You're too high and mighty and you need to be put down in your place. You are a horrible human being and that's why you're being punished._

Though now that he looked back, he realised that his thoughts were rash – he still could understand what led him to such incessantly irrational conclusions. He wondered how many of them Sebastian had.

He can honestly think of a handful himself, but the most obvious one that he honestly thought that this was instant karma – something that he deserved, his just dessert and all of so.

Chandler slowly nodded his head, but then asked. "Was it because you weren't happy?"

Sebastian looked like he was honestly considering this, but he shrugged. "I don't know," he muttered, his voice a little low.

This seemed to be a harsh topic to bring up, but the blonde realised that he had an advantage – Sebastian's guilt.

Chandler nodded his head once more, and then found himself smiling ever so slightly. "I hope you feel happy soon then," he nodded his head.

The blonde glanced at Hunter, whom seemed to be silent, and looking down rather vacantly at his plate. His hand was absent-mindedly playing with his potatoes, smashing them across the plate into mush. Far too often, Chandler would tell him not to do so, yet for that moment, the only one he was interested in addressing was Sebastian.

"I'm leaving," Sebastian confessed, causing the blonde's heart to pound in his chest. He understood the feeling and did not know why he'd felt it – it was fear, fear that Sebastian would be alone, that the brunette would be leaving as a broken shell and then go off only to shatter himself in the process, leaving something that cannot be fixed at all. "Two weeks."

Chandler nodded his head, swallowing the lump that seemed to have formed in his throat. "To…to where?"

"None of your business, Candy," Sebastian retorted quite effortlessly, which made Hunter clench his fork far too tightly for it to be normal. It was something that the taller brunette had noticed too, and it was something that was making Sebastian tense.

Chandler nodded his head. "Okay," he whispered. "Fair enough."

Sebastian followed Chandler's gesture, nodding his head ever so sternly. He returned back to his mechanical eating, and had polished off the last of his croissants before immersing himself in his energy drink.

"Massachusetts," Sebastian finally answered, though his voice was a little dull.

Chandler smiled weakly. "That sounds nice," he honestly wanted to know why that place specifically – he knew for one that Sebastian had a history in Paris, and that was what the blonde originally thought he was going to. There were no ties in Massachusetts for Sebastian as far as Chandler knew. "Does anyone you know live in Massachusetts?"

Sebastian shook his head.

"Why are you going there?"

"For fuck's sake," Sebastian looked agitated with the blonde, and Chandler can't really blame Sebastian.

However, Hunter seemed to be losing what little was left of his patience – that was something that the art student noticed very well with the ex-cadet. He got very angry very quickly and he was going to spit out things they both knew he'd regret the moment it passed his lips yet were so validated in his mind at the point that he'd said it in.

"Like I said," Sebastian shrugged. "It's none of your business."

Chandler nodded his head once more, and decided that inviting Sebastian back into the blonde's life may cause the boy to open up a bit more than usual. "I have an art show this Friday that I'm a little nervous for. Kurt and Blaine are together again, and…I think that's just about it."

"Didn't ask you, Blondie."

Chandler glanced back at Hunter, whom had shut his eyes and had long stopped playing with his food. He was instead grabbing fistfuls of his own pants in hopes that would stop his blood from boiling after it broke the threshold anger that was needed for Hunter's emotions to spiral out of utter control.

"For God's sake, Sebastian, he's trying," Chandler somehow knew that Hunter was going to blow up. "Get your head out of your ass and talk to him like a normal person."

"Fuck off, Hunt. You're not in this conversation just because you fuck him," Sebastian had retorted very easily and very quickly.

Hunter snorted, standing up from his position, eye-leveled with the green-eyed boy that was glaring at him mercilessly. "I'm very well in this conversation and yes, it is because I 'fuck him'."

Sebastian stood up quickly after that statement, trying to maintain eye contact with Hunter. His eyes were cold, and Hunter's eyes were just as cold. Chandler was apprehensive and that uneasiness made his stomach coil in nervousness.

"What is it in him that you find so attractive, Hunt?" Sebastian sneered, and oh, that was the Sebastian that Chandler knew in high school, the so called prestigious asshole that would do anything to put Chandler down. "Candy's not a looker. I saw him, you know, every little bit of his body…I saw it all. Did you tell him the story, sweetie? He'd love to hear it."

"What story?" Hunter turned to look at Chandler.

This was not happening. Chandler felt like puking instead, as he swallowed down what he can only think was fear down his throat. Everything was wrong, and everything hurt so much.

Hunter looked betrayed and confused. Sebastian was looking rather smug for someone whom was incessantly bullied – he looked a lot like his older self, far too sure of himself.

A part of Chandler was acting irrationally as anxiety found its way to his chest. He felt himself in an impossible situation that felt like it could only end in the worst way possible, in the most horrendous way possible. It made Chandler swallow the lump that had formed in his throat, the solid sect of pain.

"Sebastian…" Chandler shook his head. He did not want to remember, but he was being forced to remember .What he wanted was apparently irrelevant in such a situation. "He locked me in the bathroom once and told me to take off my clothes. And I did because I was petrified. I'm sorry, Hunt. Then he just…picked at everything."

Sebastian looked far too satisfied with that, as if he'd done the world a favour. He looked so content with what he'd done that all Chandler wanted to do was smash the boy's face in.

In a fleet of humiliation, Chandler managed to find some sort of obvious sense in the situation. Sebastian had obvious felt guilty about it from that one fleeting moment in the bus stop, and that kind of regret overtook him for that moment. It was raw, and real, and it was unforgettable. Sebastian was regretful, and that was a truth that Chandler had decided long ago to understand the aloof attitude that the boy had somehow adapted to.

Sebastian was guilty of his past actions, so why bring them up? Why even try to anger Hunter when Hunter was accepting it—

Chandler's mind was trying to think of a sea of possibilities, but as he was thinking, Sebastian was slipping away from the table as if it was diseased, infected – and Chandler knew that facial expression well. Hunter apparently did not seem to withstand the new information and had walked towards the brunette before Chandler can say no. Hunter gave Sebastian the fakest smile he'd ever seen before administrating a jab towards Sebastian's stomach. Apparently, the brunette had known that he was going to be hit, which made him steady himself beforehand.

Chandler knew that Sebastian was definitely a good dancer – a grand dancer, something that Chandler himself horrifically envied. He used to envy everything that was the brunette…his perfect body, his perfect voice, his perfect skin, his perfect hair, his perfect grades, his perfect confidence…and although Chandler felt nothing more than terror and hatred for whenever the brunette was pestering on him, those feelings dissolved into jealousy when he found Sebastian paying attention to any other.

Chandler watched as Sebastian tried to hit Hunter back. They were both built similarly and for once, Chandler was the stronger one of the two. He didn't know how to feel about that other than queasy. He'd seen how easily Sebastian can bruise – how little that body can take before it broke.

Hunter had grabbed Sebastian's wrist and propelled him backwards, so that the boy's back violently hit a table. Sebastian had decided to allow his knee to punch through Hunter's stomach.

Chandler honestly wanted to know what kind of system the law school had if the two can fight like that in the cafeteria. He knew the place was vast, but everyone was watching. Professors rolled their eyes. Apparently, Hunter was right – money was power, and Chandler supposed that the last thing any leader of authority would want to do was say a thing to the boys' fighting.

"Stop it!" Chandler yelled, feeling as if all was useless, especially when Hunter had decided to shove Sebastian away. The boy's coordination was off, and he ended up tripping on the ground.

Chandler had glared at Hunter coldly. "Hunter!" he icily snapped at him. "How could you?"

Chandler found himself wandering off towards Sebastian, whom was onto the ground, and looked like he was not getting up any time soon.

Chandler slid down beside him and noticed that the boy's breathing was incredibly shallow, and he looked extremely confused. "Sebastian?"

When this evoked no response from Sebastian, then and only then did Chandler go into panic mode. He grabbed Sebastian by his shoulders and started to shake him as profusely as possible to try and eradicate some sort of response from him.

Apparently, this was relevant enough that Hunter finally came to see what was wrong. Hunter circling around Sebastian made most others do the same, and Chandler felt angry because they did not care. They were there feeding their curiosity. Hunter tried to pull Sebastian slightly close to him to read the expression that was on his face, to see how shallow his breath was; depleted out of oxygen in ways that Chandler did not understand. He seemed fine a few minutes ago.

Hunter had found himself grabbing Sebastian's hand, feeling his pulse and shaking his head. "Chandler, he needs an ambulance. If I'm right, he's in shock."

Chandler found himself calling, but he can barely spit out any information. Hunter seemed to be trying to listen to Sebastian's pulse. When Chandler had gotten off the phone, Hunter was just shaking his head. "Look at his hands."

It took a few moments for Chandler to understand why – they were getting tinged blue. Chandler did not know if that was there for a while, but now, that he'd seen Sebastian's fingers he'd wondered how he was not able to see them from before or note such things.

He felt useless. He felt completely and utterly useless.

"Can't you tell him to calm down?" Chandler asked, causing Hunter to laugh before he shook his head.

"Love, his emotions have nothing to do with it. His blood flow is effected – it's different from a panic attack," Hunter immediately knew what Chandler had been thinking about, and the blonde felt responsible.

The ambulance could not come any faster, and Chandler found himself feeling guilty. He didn't know why, but he felt as if he was the cause for this disgusting debacle, because if he did not say a thing about Sebastian, then maybe, this would never have happened.

Logically, he probably had nothing to do with it. Hunter probably had a bigger role with the physical injury he'd sustained Sebastian to, but perhaps, none of them had a role in this. Chandler knew scrap about shock (it was evident when he asked Hunter if he can somehow manage to make Sebastian calm.)

The hospital was decked in white and lined in blue. Hunter told Chandler to wait in a café, but Chandler did not want to wait here.

He was scared – he was petrified. He realised that he'd been absent-mindedly carrying Sebastian's backpack, something he barely noticed since he'd done so many things in pure and utter panic and alarm.

He leafed through Sebastian's personal belongings and had pulled out Sebastian's phone.

Considering Chandler had issues with talking to people in phones (it scared him – he preferred texting incessantly), he had found that Sebastian's family had a group on WhatsApp. Perfect. He'd texted them about Sebastian's condition – room number, and so forth.

He felt like he had done one good thing at least, but still felt inevitably useless. He felt angry that he did nothing to stop Hunter, even if it was not the reason why Sebastian had went into shock – it was still pretty awful that he'd let Hunter push around Sebastian as if he was nothing.

Chandler was a little more relieved when he saw that Kurt and Blaine had come along. That was another thing that Chandler had done in his moment of pure panic was call them in his fits to try to calm himself down. He had not remembered that either until he'd seen their faces.

Kurt and Blaine had decided to join Chandler. Kurt told Blaine to get coffee just so the two can speak. A few moments of catching up on senseless things did not change the fear that was installed in Chandler's mind, and then Hunter had to come over, looking rather dull.

Hunter nodded his head towards the both of them, and Blaine got up from the table five seconds after he sat down to get Hunter his usual order no doubt. Blaine just wanted any menial task to busy him.

"Hi," Chandler whispered a little too low. "There? Are you done now? He's in the hospital. I was in a hospital. Are you done picking on him?"

Hunter chose not to respond to that. _So now you're deciding to be level-headed!_ Chandler snapped in his mind. The blonde was tired, hungry and worried. The brunette chose to rub his neck. "I did think I mentioned that Sebastian's had an aortic dissection before. What I did not remember was the fact that that was a medical emergency in itself. I think I just responded with how he'd acted – as if it did not matter. His parents are medically uneducated. I'm medically stupid apparently because I keep missing the most obvious of things."

Hunter shook his head. "Do you know what an aortic dissection is, Chandler? I just remembered. It's a tear in the inner wall of the aorta, the main branch that takes oxygenated blood to the rest of your body. _I let him walk around with a tear in his major blood vessel_. Let's not even talk about the fact that I was intending to murder him just a few minutes beforehand…"

Hunter shook his head. "I guess I got my wish then."

Chandler didn't know what to say to that. A part of him wanted to spit out things in anger himself, but making Hunter feel worse about himself was not going to help the situation at hand. "Is he going to live?"

Hunter snorted. "He has a tear in his aorta, and just went into shock," he repeated.

Chandler nodded his head. He then sounded out his concern. "If he dies," he began, tears burning into his eyes. "I don't want him to die alone."

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	11. 11

_let me explain to you why I have not been updating. a) my computer was being an ass and would not log me on and b) my harddrive also crashed and I have lost the seven chapters I have written for this fanfic (I was seven chapters ahead) and because I don't like rewriting anything at all - I have decided that if I want to write a chapter for this, I have to go onto a different angle and thereby, I give to you this chapter. I actually like this one than the original Chapter 11 I had up. _

* * *

11

* * *

Chandler stood by Sebastian's bedside, feeling a flutter of anxiety for every minute that Sebastian wasn't awake for. Those were many minutes. He rubbed Sebastian's arm every minute or so. He honestly hated the thought of how much people had pushed around Sebastian for the past month in college. He had never truly wanted the brunette to get hurt, even when Sebastian was meticulously bullying him back in high school but he'd always wanted him to leave him alone.

Now, Chandler was clinging and that said something.

Sebastian had said that he was leaving in two weeks. Chandler honestly had felt a little cheated, as if Sebastian couldn't leave without telling him. They'd been in such a horrendous relationship in the past few years together. There were days were Sebastian was just that 'graceful dancer' in Chandler's mind, before the bullying even began. They never talked. The blonde honestly thought that Sebastian was going to pursue a career in dance if anything. His body was so agile, so supple, so lovely, and he knew how to move it. Even after seeing his sunken in chest and seeing how clumsy he could get when he wasn't practicing regularly, he felt as if a dream was wasted.

Sebastian hadn't shown true interests in law. He was smart, and he liked to flaunt it but that was nothing when it came to dancing. Chandler was mesmerised. Ballet, tango, salsa, ballroom – Sebastian did loads of dances, but his patient movement was more for ballet or ballroom dancing…or maybe Chandler just wanted to pretend that Sebastian was fragile at that moment, as if one hit could break him because he was very tall and thin.

It was hard to imagine someone forcefully pushing someone in a physical sense. Chandler honestly had realised it some time ago that he could physically push Sebastian any time he pleased, shove him into places - he could've used Sebastian's disorder against him. He could've humiliated him, could've relentlessly stated his insecurities until he was a pool of nothing on the ground but he didn't. He didn't want to.

Whilst Sebastian asserted what little power he had at a constant interval, Chandler didn't want to. He knew he could hurt people, but why would he ever want to do that?

It made no sense to Chandler why anyone would ever aim to destroy anyone's life. He wondered how he must seem from Sebastian's eyes – that happy little blonde that didn't have a care in the world, that fell in love with things just because they existed, and that stared at him during dance classes. He wondered if his admiration ever looked like spite in Sebastian's eyes, as if Chandler was watching simply because Chandler wanted him to fall.

That was never true. He was watching because he was amazed. It was like when Sebastian danced, he lacked humanity…in the most beautiful way possible, as if he was an angel, untouchable in every single way.

Chandler wondered what was going through Sebastian's mind a huge amount of times during the dance. Sebastian never complied to any of the rules, rarely changed – he was talented and he didn't have to comply to their ideas. It was how he asserted his control to authorities as well. He was different. He stuck out, and in every one of their dance classes, all Chandler could think about was how Sebastian accepted himself so fully.

Staring at Sebastian now, all Chandler could see was how much he'd fallen, as if this was a whole great act by itself, as if he'd fallen down from a dance rather than in the middle of a law school. Chandler never thought of Sebastian being interested in law. He wasn't. What he was looking for was always the same: he wanted to be better, better, the best at what he did so he could be an exception. This time, his very wish had turned on him.

He was the best at his law school from what Hunter told him. Everything came to Sebastian like a click, as if he'd written the books, as if he'd given the lectures and so many people despised him for it. At school, Sebastian's excellence was just admired and silently envied. Here things were different. Here they had more control than Sebastian did and they paid attention to Sebastian's brilliance to the point where they hated how good he was.

Hunter was one of them.

It wasn't shocking – Chandler had thought to himself. If there was one thing Hunter would pride to himself about, it was his intelligence. Of course, next to Sebastian, Hunter seemed to be nothing in his opinion. Next to Sebastian, Chandler realised that beauty seemed like nothing. Sebastian was everything. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he remembered that there was a time where Sebastian looked deathly ill at the time in the dance class.

Chandler remembered it very clearly. He remembered that he wouldn't come in for a few weeks to dance or to school. Sebastian was such a predominating person in Chandler's life and it was at that point where he realised just how much he saw of Sebastian and how much he tried to avoid him. He didn't have to peer around hallways in hopes of running into the brunette, or look away in dance class because Sebastian didn't like to be gawked at all the time. He didn't have to be cautious when he went to walk the family dog because Sebastian took the same route with Scotty. He didn't have to worry about seeing Sebastian in the supermarket that week because they shopped in the same day (Friday, at night, always an 80% chance of them meeting but they both seemed to have problems breaking habit).

He didn't seem to realise just how empty his life was whilst he wasn't constantly obsessing over Sebastian, whether it was the fact that he had to avoid him or his attempt at deciphering Sebastian as a person through what he saw.

At some point, those weeks turned to months and nobody ever spoke about it – just that Sebastian came in dance one day, looking incredibly weak. No, he wasn't looking incredibly weak. He was incredibly weak. His skin was grey, and he seemed to be annoyed at everything. Another thing that the blonde had noticed was how bloodshot his eyes were. He had taken off the coat and Chandler was gawking at how thin the brunette had gotten during his absence. Somehow, things were better after that point but Chandler hadn't forgotten.

He looked down at Sebastian lying in that hospital cot, unconscious for now. He still looked better than he did in that day and he was nearly dying here. Chandler's hand had been running up and down Sebastian's arm so absent-mindedly for a while.

Hunter had walked in, holding a cup of coffee in each of his hands. "Is he dead?"

It was such a clear cut question. Chandler shook his head. "Coma," he murmured. It seemed as if the minute he said it, he realised that Sebastian could be in this state for a very long time. It didn't look like it though. His heart was still beating and Sebastian looked like he was sleepy. The skin was rubbery, cold, almost as if Sebastian was already dead.

Hunter offered the coffee to Chandler. He sipped it. Latte, a caramel latte with loads of whipped cream inside and an extra pump of sugar. It was exactly what Chandler would've had.

Chandler looked up at Hunter, excited for this but then noticed the pained look in Hunter's face as he looked at Sebastian. It dawned on him then to how as much as he knew about Sebastian, he didn't know anything at all about Hunter. He'd sort of pieced together Sebastian's life, but he'd never done so for Hunter.

"I didn't want him to get into law," Chandler murmured.

Hunter looked down at Chandler for the longest of time, furrowing his eyebrows. That made no sense to him.

Chandler shrugged. "It's just…when we were younger, he used to dance, and he used to be the best thing in the world. I mean…you know when you first see a ballet for the first time ever and you remember how magical it's like? How the ballet dancers all look like they could fly? How their dresses or leotards or whatever they're wearing makes them look like they're this untouchable things and with every second, they seem less and less of this earth and more like angels?"

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Sebastian's an angel?"

"When he danced," Chandler responded, "He was all the angels."

Hunter snorted. Chandler knew how he must have sounded like, holding onto childhood fantasies that weren't even his. He wanted to see how he'd look like now that he knew more about him. It felt like such wasted talent, locking him away in law school. Sebastian was good at law. It was something so obvious with Chandler, but Sebastian was good at everything he did. That was just it.

Chandler looked at Hunter for the longest of time. "Why are you in law?"

"Me?" Hunter murmured. "Why am I in law?" he repeated, as if the question itself was silly.

Chandler flushed. He wondered if Hunter had been talking about it for a while and Chandler just wasn't paying attention. It made Chandler feel horrid about everything from the beginning, as if he didn't know Hunter well enough or something of that sort.

Hunter looked down at his feet. "I don't know."

Chandler honestly thought he'd caught that wrong. "What?"

Hunter looked up at Chandler. "If I tell you something," he felt uneasy about it. "Will you promise not...not to laugh?"

Chandler thought that this was preposterous. He was not going to laugh at his boyfriend for God's sake! He shook his head. "Of course I won't!" he tried not to sound insulted, but it came out as that anyway. After all the blonde had been through, he was easily offended when it sounded like Chandler could be any kind of cruel. Chandler would rather die than be identified with that kind of quality – neglectful, cruel, unkind, or resentful.

Just the thought of those qualities being in him made his stomach lurch. Chandler had always prided himself in being a good person. In fact, some people thought that he was too good of a person, and he liked it that way. He liked that he could see the best in people regardless of what they deserved.

Hunter looked down at his lap. "Chandler, I…" he didn't look very comfortable saying this. "I hope you don't think less of me when I say this but I have a complex towards Sebastian."

"Yeah," that was noticeable.

Hunter rubbed his neck. "I'm mostly into law because I know that there was he was going to," he said in a flat tone. "Think me childish but I thought that I could be better at him in something."

Chandler didn't say anything, which apparently was enough for Hunter to continue.

"I've known Sebastian for quite a while. When I was in the academy, his Father used to come over there with Sebastian. One game Jean Smythe liked to play was letting any of us try to beat Sebastian at anything – we came up with some crazy things back then. Sebastian has a weak muscle mass and we were told he couldn't lift heavy stuff – it's obvious now that it's from the Marfan's – but back then, we just thought it was because he had no physical strength. When we challenged him in swimming, running, stuff like that, he always came out first. When I challenged him in more academic things, he still won out over us. I think…"

Hunter paused for a moment before continuing his thought, "…I never stopped playing."

Chandler looked up at Hunter's face. He thought that that was a bad thought process. It was honestly so competitive and self-destructive on its own. "Hunter, you can't be good at everything."

"He is," it was the amount of contempt in Hunter's voice that made Chandler's stomach churn. "Why do you think I was so eager to start pushing Sebastian around? To see it happen? It's all because of how jealous I am. I don't care about anything else, Chandler. I am a rather repulsive person if you honestly get a true picture of my thoughts. I wanted him to suffer – not because he made you suffer. No, that's too selfless – just because he's so bloody perfect that I think that this is just the kind of karma life gives back to people like him. You can't be good at everything and have a good life. It shouldn't be possible."

Chandler hadn't said anything whilst Hunter was giving out his speech. It made Chandler's stomach lurch again, to think of all the things that Hunter was thinking on a regular basis. He would never see Hunter as a malicious individual, no matter what his thoughts were simply because he wasn't. If anything, he'd kept this to himself for so long that Chandler was surprised that it didn't make him go insane.

Hunter looked down at Sebastian's body. Chandler could finally read his emotion perfect – guilt and anger—guilty for his thoughts and angry at himself for having those thoughts.

Chandler wanted Hunter to say more, spill his secrets to him but he didn't want to push him at the same time. Chandler's eyes were on Sebastian for the longest of time. He looked so small, so fragile from where he was.

"Sebastian's in a coma," right now, Chandler honestly thought he was saying that just to prove to himself that Sebastian wasn't going to wake up anytime soon.

"Yes," Hunter murmured, voice soft.

"Are you happy he's in a coma?" Chandler asked, honestly wanting an answer to that.

Hunter looked at Chandler for the longest of time. "As I've said before I'm a repulsive person, Chandler," Hunter slowly but surely nodded his head to that final statement.

Chandler felt as if the world had hit him full-force right then. It was like he didn't know Hunter at all. He wasn't sure he liked this new Hunter, that he was okay with this new Hunter at all. His stomach was lurching and things seemed to be working against him at that point. He looked up at Hunter and watched as that anger became hate, and Chandler didn't know whether that hate was self-hate or hatred for Sebastian.

"Do you want me to leave?" Hunter's question was obvious, clear-cut. "If you want me to leave, I will."

Chandler looked down at his lap.

"Tell me the truth," Hunter responded.

Chandler didn't look away from his lap. "I think we should be alone for a while." Chandler felt like he lost something special to him when he said those words, as if things would never be the same again. Losing Hunter was like losing a part of himself, but he didn't know what he was losing – he didn't know Hunter. He didn't know Hunter at all.

What was he losing?

Chandler couldn't tell yet, but he was staring at Hunter stand up from his position.

"Fair enough," Hunter didn't sound upset. In fact, it was nearly as if he wanted Chandler to make that choice.

Chandler stood up, before grabbing the contact card he had wedged into his book and offered it to Hunter. "My Father used to think I needed one, but honestly, I think you need one more than me," the blonde knew what was written on that card. He had it memorised. He wondered how insulting it would be to Hunter for Chandler to offer him a card to a therapist. "Hunter, you can't let those thoughts in."

Hunter looked at Chandler with a stoic expression. Chandler felt unsettled for some time before Hunter had said, "I regret ever saying anything to you."

The words – they were as sharp as a knife. Chandler would rather Hunter physically hurt him. The thing was that Chandler knew that Hunter was only being honest, that those blue eyes were holding nothing more than regret and anger. He looked over at Sebastian one more time.

"Game over," he breathed out in the air.

Chandler watched Hunter leave, not sure of what to say. Somehow, in the back of his mind, he just realised that Hunter wore overcoats all the time and baggy trousers. He didn't think he had a proper image of Hunter's body after the steroids because of the brunette's body image issues. How bad were they? How did they start?

The blonde would never know, and the thought of that somehow scared him.

The coffee was cold by the time that Hunter had left. A nurse offered to heat it up for the blonde when she noticed he wasn't drinking it. He left to buy mini quiches, and found himself trying not to cry over the counter.

He came back to the room to talk to himself – or more important, to the comatose Sebastian.

"What do I already miss him so much?" the blonde had asked of the brunette that lay motionless before him. His voice was cracking and he was still trying not to cry. He busied himself with warm quiches and warm coffee – warm things were always comfort food in Chandler's opinion. "I mean… I didn't know anything about Hunter, Sebastian. Nothing. Like… I knew basic things about him. I didn't know what he was thinking about, what he made of things until now, and he just went up and left because I didn't like it. So, what am I missing?"

He paused to think, popping mini quiches into his mouth every few minutes with a generous gulp of the coffee that was before him.

Chandler was startled when he heard a voice respond to his question.

"You miss having someone there and being sure that someone will listen," Chandler looked up to stare at the face of a man that the blonde quickly recognised as Jean Smythe. He was standing there with frazzled hair, a very pressed suit, an untied tie and a briefcase he was holding too tightly. He was just able to construct Jean's words into a thought. "That is what you miss. You do not wish the person – you wish the things they did or the reassurance they gave you."

Chandler slowly nodded his head absentmindedly. He didn't know if that was true or not, but it felt right to agree to that.

Jean was looking straight at the cup of coffee that Chandler had. "Where can I…?"

"Coffee?" Chandler chirped before Jean nodded his head again.

"Okay, follow me," Chandler stood up, taking his cup of coffee in his hand and popping the last mini quiche into his mouth. He chewed it thoroughly, letting all the flavour explode in his mouth before he gestured towards Jean to follow him.

Jean got a cappuccino that was extra sweet. He remembered Sebastian had the same sweet tooth to be honest.

"I thought nobody would show up," the blonde was only being honest.

Jean looked at Chandler. "Sebastian and I aren't on proper terms," he murmured. "When I heard he was having surgery, I thought 'fine'. I thought it was for his aorta but then when someone else called me and told me that he went into shock prior and it was more of emergency surgery. They also explained that an aortic dissection was considered a medical emergency – I don't know these things at all. I sued the initial doctor I took Sebastian to that insisted that Sebastian could wait for surgery, and from what I've heard, Sebastian had gone into a coma. I thought flying over here is appropriate, not that I don't care about him but it's…it's complicated."

Chandler wanted to understand it though. He looked over at Jean, willing him to finish talking.

Jean seemed to get the message. "I cut off Sebastian from the family, not from our money. He…doesn't want to be around his Mother, but his Mother wants him to be around her. She's been asking about him quite a bit, and is upset when he's not around. I know Nathalie is demanding and I know…that I seem like an asshole in this picture, but I was doing the best for his interest. The place he'd gotten into was too much for him. He'd destroy himself trying to come up to par with his—"

Chandler didn't mean to cut Jean off. "Place he'd gotten into?" he asked. "Sebastian got into somewhere else?"

The blonde could only imagine Sebastian ever applying to one college and having his heart set out on that. He was just that kind of a risk taker, but Jean was saying something else.

"Harvard," when Jean had said that, Chandler's heart practically hammered into his chest. "Yes, I know, but…I can't let Sebastian push his own limits. That place would be toxic for him. I don't know if you'll ever understand but it's like when I made Sebastian quit dancing because…"

After Jean had said that he was the one that made Sebastian quit, Chandler's heart raced again but this time harsher, louder, as if he could see things a bit more clearly now. The bullying, how it had gotten so much worse when Sebastian wasn't dancing…when the blonde was hospitalised, it was just a week after Sebastian hadn't been to dance. Chandler quit too after some time, after he realised Sebastian wasn't going to be around.

And he would never be as good as Sebastian.

The blonde had looked away from Jean after the man took his order, adding a bout of cinnamon in it, and then taking a large gulp. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Chandler shook his head. He didn't mean to, but his shoulders shook, and for some reason, everything seemed to be so much clearer. The bullying – the reasons for it, how Sebastian hated him for being happy – because he couldn't be. He was banned from one of the things that brought him the most joy in his life, and for some reason, it all made him want to curl up into a ball or puke out his guts. He'd always seen the best in people…but this time, he can't.

It was Hunter and it was Sebastian…and it was himself. Whatever it was about them, Chandler didn't like the feeling he had in his gut at all and for some reason, he finally collapsed to the ground and let out hot tears, sobbing out loud. The coffee he was holding spilled onto the ground, the last thing that Hunter had given him before he'd left, the last thing.

And then he realised why he was crying so hard.

He didn't have Hunter anymore – he didn't have someone that was just fixated on him and what he did. He didn't have Sebastian – and he couldn't have Sebastian. He couldn't have _anything_.

* * *

_x Peanut Butter/Sam_


	12. 12

12

* * *

Sebastian Smythe woke up at the fourth of August. He felt as if things were…strange. He was looking outside the window. It was a bit sunnier than he'd last remembered. When he was told that it was fucking August (the last date he remembered was in January for fuck's sake) then shit blew the fan. He was angry. He was hurt, and he felt like he slept through a few million years. It was four pm when he stirred. He was starving. He was so many things.

But anger was one of the first things he was.

He was stiff from sleeping and for the first bit, nothing would move. His arms and one of his legs were asleep and after half an hour, he was able to walk around again. Against nurse's orders, he pushed the tube connecting the saline to his skin (bruising himself in the process) and got off the hospital cot. His ass was hurting. His stomach was hurting. His neck was stiff. He was aching so much it was unbelievable. The nurses gave up on him.

He wanted some food but then halfway through the hallway, he realised he didn't have any bloody money and came back to his room, pacing around mindlessly in it. Boy was he stiff. He wondered how he wasn't decayed. He was trying not to worry about the fact that he fucking slept through eight months. His nurse was telling him not to tire himself out and he needed to go back to bed – he just woke up after an eight month coma. He wanted to tell her to piss off too. He was healed – hell, he better be healed. After eight months, what the fuck was left that hadn't healed?

He was freaking out of course. Eight months. He blew off half a year, and what? He only had a bit to apply to wherever. Who would take him anyway? Who did he want to take him? Could he even apply to anywhere this late or should he suck it up and live alone doing nothing for a whole fucking year?

Thoughts swam into his mind, a thousand questions with only one conclusion: he had to do something _now_.

He found his Father's laptop case when he turned around and inspected the room properly. The nurses were just happy that he lay down and didn't ask him anything about it. His Father's password was always the same, the company's name and the year it was established in. Hospital internet was shit but what else could he do but wait for the pages to open up?

New York.

Law colleges in New York.

There had to be some place that had his standards that he didn't apply to. He had his other documents saved on his email just in case and he was happy, because he was definitely in a fucking case. Maybe his failure in law school – though not his fault – was only telling him that he needed to do something else. He didn't know.

He was stuck on browsing law schools anyway. Nothing satisfied him – nothing. He wondered if he could apply to Harvard again, but honestly, it was a shot in the dark. Everything was at this point. He didn't want to be disappointed if they didn't take him again. He didn't know what to do with himself if he had to sit there, thinking _I could've gone the first place but no_. It was too painful to fucking think about.

Harvard. There it was. His dreams dashed away. _Are you sure those are your fucking dreams if you didn't kill yourself to be there? _There was a question that was recurrently popping in his mind.

He can't face the humiliation. He was so ready to go, so ready to be there, two weeks afterwards, and now, here he was.

He wasn't there.

He was eight months behind schedule. He was questioning whether or not he wanted to go to Harvard for the education or the glamour. As far as Sebastian knew, it was all for the glamour. Because he could. Now, he couldn't. He couldn't do anything at all. He stared at the screen for the longest of while. He shut his Father's laptop, put it back into the case, and allowed the nurses to put his saline back. He bitched about tasteless hospital food and lack of entertainment.

It was a few days until he had his first visitor. His first visitor was surprising to him but not at the same time.

Chandler Kiehl stood by the doorway, scarf wrapped around his neck and baby blue eyes dancing with trepidation. There was something lost in the world right now that Sebastian couldn't tell, that he missed and that he wished to obtain, but for now, he'd settle for whatever the world was willing to give him and if the world wasn't willing to give him much then he couldn't blame it at all. Things have changed. Sebastian could already tell.

Chandler looked older for some reason, as if in the past eight months, the childlike beauty that had come to define him (in Sebastian's eyes) had been ripped away from his hands and left to mindlessly rot. Something had happened.

"How are you?" was Chandler's first question.

Sebastian shrugged. "I don't know," was what he finally said. He then stared at Chandler for a longer time before asking, "How are you?"

Chandler took a deep breath before saying, "I don't know."

Sebastian was going to ask him why he had a scarf around his neck in mid August but then he saw the blonde shove the silken scarf out of the way. When Sebastian had noticed the very obvious hickey, the first thing he could do was smirk.

"Nice colours," Sebastian murmured.

Chandler didn't seem too happy about it existing. "It was a mistake," he looked down at Sebastian.

It was strange, being in the cot and having Chandler look down at him. Somehow, things were clearer when he was in the hospital cot.

"It wasn't Hunter," Sebastian had deciphered very quickly. "Was it?"

Chandler laughed, as if Sebastian's statement was a joke. "Hunter and I hadn't been together for a while," the blonde had explained, rubbing his neck. "We hadn't been together since you'd been at the hospital."

"Because of me," Sebastian murmured. "Right?"

Chandler didn't say anything to that. Honestly, as far as Sebastian could tell, he didn't need to. It was obvious to the brunette. "Because of what he thinks about you," Chandler ensured, sitting down. Sebastian raised an eyebrow. That sounded strange to him. It may be just a Chandler thing, but the blonde explained.

"It's just Hunter wasn't the person I thought he was," Chandler quickly stated. "He's…not as good of a man I thought he was."

It took a few moments to realise that Chandler was carrying a plastic bag. The blonde sat down to pull out a can of Coke for Sebastian. The tall brunette accepted it with zeal and opened it the second that Chandler had given it to him without any hesitation. Sebastian had noted Chandler pulling out a box filled with assorted bakery items. The blonde gestured for Sebastian to take whatever he wanted. The brunette stared at the pasties in front of him before taking one at random.

Chandler continued to speak. "He told me that he's competitive with you…he's obsessed with you. I can really see it now, that he just wants to better you—that nothing else matters," the blonde tried not to put in too much emotion at the last bit, thinking about whether or not Hunter had cared about him once in his life. "He was glad you were in a coma. I think when he told me that that it was just—"

Sebastian cut Chandler off right then. "If I told you I wanted to kill Hunter, what would you say?"

Chandler furrowed his eyebrows. "You have every reason to?" he was slightly confused at his own thought process here.

"Why?" Sebastian shrugged. "He didn't land me into a coma. I did."

"What do you mean?" Chandler was replying the scene over and over in his head – Hunter pushing Sebastian to his limits and him breaking, the shock that Sebastian had undergone and the shock that filled Hunter's eyes.

Sebastian laughed. "I'm smart, aren't I?" Chandler cautiously nodded his head. "Yeah, and guess what I did?"

Sebastian looked away. He hadn't actually confessed it to anyone. His tone had shifted. It was once light-hearted only seconds ago but was darker when he spoke again. "I know," he said, rubbing his neck in hesitation. "I know what an aortic dissection is. I know that the doctors were wrong for pushing back my surgery away for so long. I didn't say anything. I am fucking reckless. That's it. I'm reckless, and I nearly fucking killed myself. It's not Hunt's fault."

Chandler was shocked at this new piece of information.

"If I was bullying Hunter and pushed him to the hospital, would you have broken up with me?" Sebastian asked.

The blonde was a tad more startled when he heard that question. He opened his mouth to respond but no words seemed to leave them. He pursed his lips together tightly, digesting Sebastian's question before truthfully shaking his head.

"No," Chandler finally said it. He felt horrible for saying it.

Sebastian snorted, staring at Chandler for some time. Chandler seemed to stare back at Sebastian, before he moved towards the tall brunette. The blonde ran his hand through Sebastian's hair.

"I feel closer to you than I do to him," the blonde explained, rubbing his neck. "It shouldn't be right because you've hurt me for a lot of high school but…I just can't see you as a bad person. I don't know. Hunter was hurting you. He wasn't becoming you. He was already someone else when I met him. I fell in love with someone that never shared anything about themselves, about what they loved, what they aspired…Hunter lacked personality."

Sebastian snorted, shaking his head. "Hunter doesn't lack personality," Sebastian stated. "Hunter _protects_ his personality."

Chandler found that odd. "Why?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "You really don't know him well, do you?"

The question only made the blonde flush.

Sebastian sighed deeply. "You know the first time I saw Hunter wasn't the first time I met him? I saw him when he was 18 and I was like 14." the brunette looked down at his lap. "I was just going in for a check-up with the doctors. The doctor was Hunter's uncle. His name was something unpronounceable and when I asked him how to pronounce it, Hunter did. The doctor was happy to see Hunter and told him to take off his overcoat because he'll be with him in a minute."

The memory was sharp. Sebastian could remember it as if it was the most important day of his life. He remembered the scent of the cologne on Hunter's flesh, the intensity of the colour in his eyes and the softness in his lips. He remembered the overcoat, long, thick, bulky and black. He'd unbuttoned every button as if it was a dance, or perhaps Sebastian was the only one that could see how graceful his fingers were as they took off the buttons.

Sebastian remembered not expecting anything at all but the second Hunter had taken off his overcoat, a sickness filled the brunette.

"Sickness?" Chandler asked as Sebastian recited his tale.

Sebastian nodded his head. "Yes."

He remembered how when Hunter shed off the overcoat, Sebastian felt as if the brunette was shedding his skin along with it. The doctor that was standing there didn't seem to be shocked, as if it was normal. Sebastian was trying to process just how deathly thin Hunter looked. He was suddenly sickly-looking and greyer. When Sebastian was asked to leave, he couldn't. Hunter said it was fine for him to stand there, as Hunter was measured – five-foot-ten at that time. When the man weighed him, Sebastian's stomach churned to think that anyone could be so small, so fragile, so…breakable and it actually scared him.

"He was that small?" Chandler asked.

Sebastian snorted. "Have you seen Hunter without some kind of a bulky coat on him?"

Chandler was about to say something against it. "I…I never really noticed stuff like that. I should've, shouldn't I?"

"You like children?"

"Love them," Chandler stated.

Sebastian snorted before looking down at his lap. "Hunter's just a child," the brunette watched Chandler furrow his eyebrows at this as he shook his head. "He's a child that can use big words that is afraid of the world—and he's playing a game with me. He's always playing a game with me, and then I got hurt, and he's glad that we can't play anymore because it was _fucking killing him_."

Chandler looked away from Sebastian. "Why are you defending him? He hurt you."

"Why were you defending me? I hurt you," Sebastian said, and suddenly, things felt strange to Chandler. The world didn't make sense anymore. Sebastian then added on, "why do you hate him so much?"

Chandler pursed his lips. "Do you think he ever loved me?"

Sebastian stared at Chandler for the longest of time. "Yeah," he finally said after some time. "I think he loved you…and I think he loved me too."

"I loved him," Chandler murmured. "And I loved you too. Everyone loves you, Sebastian."

"Doesn't feel like it when everyone's shouting death threats at you, Blondie," Sebastian snorted, as if it was funny, but it wasn't funny at all. That was what he'd realised. It was never fucking funny and he hated himself for ever doing it. Lesson learned: no pushing around people, no matter how inferior they were to him. "Loved him? Loved me? That's all in the past. What do you feel now?"

Chandler's heart was hammering in his chest. "I don't know," he looked down at his feet. "I just know that whatever I feel for the both of you is really strong…and I can't read it."

"Learn how to," Sebastian found it as simple as that.

Chandler nodded his head as slowly as possible. "How are you?" he suddenly asked again, reverting the conversation back to Sebastian. Somehow, Chandler had forgotten the real reason he'd visited Sebastian in the first place – to see how he was doing.

Sebastian only nodded his head to that question. "I don't know," he finally confessed. "I feel like my life has no direction and I'm fucking pissed off at the fact that I have like a month to figure out where it's going."

Chandler responded in a heartbeat, as if he'd known all along. "You should dance."

Sebastian looked back up at Chandler with an arched eyebrow. "What?"

"You remember when we used to take dance classes together?" Chandler asked, his eyes not meeting Sebastian's just yet. He moved towards the centre of the room, his hands ramming into his pocket and his mind lost in memory. "The first time I saw you, you weren't my bully, Sebastian. You were a dancer, and I used to stare you all the time. I just… I can't hate you after I saw you dance."

Sebastian snorted. "I'm not a dancer," he didn't count on his hands trembling at the thought of that. He didn't account for the painful twist in his stomach.

"You were always a dancer," Chandler responded, shutting his eyes. "I'm going to leave you right now so you could rest. You look tired."

Sebastian didn't know what to say to that, as he watched Chandler leave the room. The entire world was all black and grey. Things were different. He was still a dancer into someone's eyes, but what was that? Becoming a dancer? That was nothing. He was a clumsy fool that was hindered by his genetic disease. He was not a dancer. He was not a lawyer either, but he had to pick something – because something was better than sitting here and being nothing at all, just a waste of space.

"Are you going to come back?" Sebastian asked.

Chandler paused by the doorway and didn't have to turn around to nod his head. "I always do."

Sebastian nodded, mostly to confirm the idea to himself before he asked, "Are you going to see Hunter right now?"

Chandler nodded his head but then paused. "And then what? What happens after I see him?"

Sebastian thought the answer was obvious. "Then you can _see_ him."

Chandler nodded his head once more. He felt afraid of seeing Hunter. He didn't want to see what Sebastian saw, what scared him about the brunette, and he didn't know where to start looking. Sebastian watched as Chandler pulled out his phone to text, and the tall brunette hoped he was texting Hunter. He somehow knew the blonde wouldn't dare lie to him. Maybe there was a reason for that but for now, he will bitch at the nurse to get him a cup of coffee whilst he debated whether or not he should call his Father to involve him in his decision to go to an artsy school or some law firm that Sebastian didn't want to be at.

He knew the answer but somehow, he was shooting for the moon and hoped he still got a star on the way. Speaking of stars…

He glared at the nurse, and asked for coffee, spitting out his order so meticulously she could get anything wrong. She didn't. Maybe that was a good thing then. He picked up the phone and called. His chest was tightening and he suddenly was depleted of oxygen. His Father didn't pick up. The ship never left the Earth, so it couldn't reach for anything at all. Oh well.

Maybe he'd just tuck away his frustrations for another day. Drink coffee, play Facebook games…his Father was bound to come back for his laptop, and he was bound to see his Father. He just wished his Father would _see_ him.

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


	13. 13

13

* * *

Chandler Kiehl did not know how he'd ended up here. Okay, fine, he had a semblance of an idea of why he was standing outside. He'd texted Hunter asking him to meet up privately. He didn't expect Hunter to answer. He expected things to be somehow different when he stepped inside of Hunter's New York apartment. It was small.

Chandler's eyes immediately went to analyse what Hunter was wearing – a thick overcoat that was a dark blue colour. The buttons were black. He was pouring himself some coffee and looked up at Chandler with a raise of his eyebrows.

"How are you?" Hunter's voice was calm. It wasn't as if Chandler had left him, as if Chandler had told him to go away because he was suddenly too vile in his eyes. Somehow, the blonde realised how much of a disgusting move that was, how he'd let his mind see horrible things instead of seeing the good in people like it always did.

Chandler stared at Hunter's face for the longest of time, drinking up those features. His eyes were concentrated on pouring some more coffee in a mug which was handed over to Chandler. The mug was small, and the coffee was alluring.

"Good," was all the blonde could say.

"Do you want more sugar on that?" Hunter asked, looking back at Chandler with a soft smile painted on his face. It wasn't as if Chandler told him to leave a few months ago. Instead of spite on that face, there was just nothing more than a good-hearted welcome.

"Why aren't you angry at me?" the blonde asked.

"I'll answer if you answer my question," Hunter responded. "It's only fair – I asked first."

Chandler nodded his head. "Yes," he said, voice quaking in its nature. "I'd like some more sugar in my coffee."

Hunter took the cup away from Chandler. "I'm not angry at you because I have no reason to. What you said was validated by fact, not just feeling," he paused for a moment. "How much sugar do you want?"

"A tablespoon and a half," Chandler was busy assessing the size of the cup. He wanted his coffee as sugary as possible without overwhelming his taste buds. His mind was trying to grasp Hunter's first statement. He had a lot more energy in him asking the blonde how much sugar he wanted. "Hunter," he grabbed Hunter's wrist.

"Don't do that again," the brunette murmured. "You could've spilled coffee on the both of us."

Hunter gave Chandler the coffee and took a sip. He looked over at Hunter, wondering what he was seeing – what was there and what he was afraid to see or grasp. Chandler had wandered over to Hunter, placing a head on his arm and pressing his head against it as well.

"Chandler," Hunter called out, his voice higher than usual.

Chandler looked up to stare at Hunter's face before he opened his mouth. "Hunter, why do you always wear overcoats? It's only something I really recently noticed. Like if it's twenty nine degrees Celsius outside, you'd still be wearing an overcoat and even when it's like—"

"I get cold very easily," Hunter's voice was not as stiff as Chandler had thought it would be. There was something wrong here. He was blinking every few seconds and looked like he had to straighten himself up. He took a deep breath. "Chandler, just please _don't_."

"Why not?" the blonde asked, although he didn't know what he was doing.

"Because," Hunter began, shaking his head. "It's not good to bring up things like this."

"Things like what?" Chandler asked, moving slightly forward so that he could enclose the gap between Hunter and himself. The blonde stood on his tip toes to place his hand on Hunter's shoulder, and to move in closer to the brunette. He could smell the strong scent of Hunter's cologne – sharp, woody. It was the same cologne he'd always wear, and the same scent he'd always carried around. It was so much sharper now that he was closer. It took every molecule in Chandler's being not to inch forward, not to kiss him, not to do something.

He could feel Hunter tensing up, as if the blonde had got the wrong answer to a question he didn't ask. The tall brunette slid backwards from Chandler's grasp. "Nine out of ten you were talking to Sebastian and he mentioned that I am weak, little, small—something of that sort, did he not? Sebastian always thinks that he's bigger than me in every single aspect in life. Taller than me, more than me, better than me."

Hunter stopped himself before he said anything else. Chandler had looked at the brunette's face. The brunette's lips were quivering. For a second there, Chandler was nearly worried that Hunter was going to cry and he'd never ever thought that he'd associate Hunter with tears. If he'd ever felt any negative emotion, it was anger and guilt, but what Chandler was seeing right then – it was pure _vulnerability_.

Hunter placed his cup of coffee on his table, and sat down on a chair. He refused to meet up with Chandler's face, but then he did and the blonde knew why he was avoiding a glance towards him. Hunter's eyes were glistening, red-rimmed, close to crying but holding it back as if it was the reason for the apocalypse. He looked back down immediately afterwards.

Chandler moved towards Hunter, placing his hands onto the brunette's shoulder. "Look up at me."

"What will I see?" Hunter asked, snorting lightly.

Chandler didn't know how to answer this question. He paused to think, pursing his lips. "I don't know. What do you want to see?"

Hunter didn't seem to know the answer to that, but finally gave in to look up at the blonde. "We've never had sex before, have we?"

Chandler realised Hunter didn't respond to the first question, and it wasn't fair but he didn't push it. Instead, he nodded his head. The apartment door was locked and Chandler knew this. He wasn't sure what happened next, but it involved Chandler pulling off his jacket. He knew what he was faced with – milky white skin, a small tummy that pushed outward that was quite obvious. When he slipped off his pants, then it was just spindly legs. He was exposed, all his imperfections – the small biking accident that left a scar on his ass, the acne on his upper back that he could never get rid of no matter what, the angry red stretch marks on his skin.

Hunter stared at him for some time, taking up his features. It was just a question. Chandler realised. It wasn't an invitation to have sex right then and there, but somehow, it just felt right.

Hunter's shaky hand somehow went to Chandler's shoulder, running his hand down to his stomach but it just stopped there. "I've shown you mine," Chandler quickly said. "Show me yours."

Hunter looked down at his feet before standing up. He was taller when he stood up. It seemed as if he'd gained all authority. He looked like Hunter again, stiffness in his posture, hardness in his eyes and most importantly, eradicated of all fear. "Sebastian woke up yesterday," he unbuttoned the first of ten buttons on his overcoat. "How was he?"

"Confused," Chandler responded, but then added on. "He doesn't know where he wants to go anymore, and he's running out of time to figure it out."

Hunter unbuttoned a second button. "And you told him that he was a dancer," he could nearly tell.

Chandler nodded his head. "And I told him he was a dancer," he repeated Hunter's statement. "And I told him he should dance."

Hunter unbuttoned a third button, and a fourth straight afterwards. "I've tried dance before. Ballet specifically," he unbuttoned a fifth, "I was very good."

"And then what happened?" the blonde asked.

Hunter unbuttoned a sixth button. "What always happens," Hunter focused on the seventh and the eighth button now. "Sebastian was better."

"So you gave up something you were good at just because someone was better?" Chandler asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"No," Hunter unbuttoned the ninth. "I gave up because Sebastian was better than me. It's not just _someone_ anymore. It's him. I felt like something was taken away from me."

Chandler nodded his head, watching Hunter unbutton the final one. "Can I see you dance?" the blonde asked before adding on, "I just like to watch."

Hunter was about to say no, but then nodded his head. "Okay," he finally said, before slipping off his overcoat. It took a few moments for Chandler to process how Hunter looked like. His heart practically stopped in his chest when he did. Hunter slipped off the grey undershirt he wore, then watched Chandler process what was in front of him.

Chandler moved forward. He could nearly see Hunter stop himself from retreating. The blonde could tell that Hunter didn't want him to get any closer. With that in mind, he placed a hand on the taller male's shoulder, but all he felt was the bone underneath. As if Hunter was just nothing more than a stretched out skeleton. His eyes drunk up his features.

"Why do you hide this?" the blonde asked, thinking that he should take the advantage to hear Hunter respond.

When he laughed, the bones in Hunter's body shook. Chandler felt a chill going up his spine, making him shudder. "Why?" Hunter repeated, as if Chandler had told him a joke.

"Many reasons," he finally announced after shaking his head. "One of them being that people tend to stare at you when you are as gaunt as I am. Second reason is as I've said I feel cold constantly due to the lack of body fat that I do have. Third reason being that my size doesn't actually exist on the adult market. I can fit into children's clothing actually. I'd be dead before I'm caught shopping in the children's section for clothing when I'm in my twenties."

Chandler's eyes were filling with tears.

"Have I upset you?" Hunter asked, raising an eyebrow and drawing himself slightly closer. It seemed to Chandler it was nearly as if Hunter forgot that he had no top on him.

Chandler's eyes were on Hunter's figure for some time. "_That_ upsets me," he suddenly said, gesturing to Hunter's body. "Why do you look like that?"

"It was worse," Hunter shrugged. "When I meet Sebastian."

"That's possible?" Chandler looked borderline disgusted then.

"Chandler," the blonde suddenly realised how red-rimmed Hunter's eyes were. "Please, I've beaten myself enough in the last twenty years about my physique. I really don't want anyone else reminding me that I look…"

Almost as if immediately, Hunter pulled back his undershirt up and then fastened the buttons on his coat as quick as possible. Chandler didn't know what to say to that. It was strange to see Hunter so vulnerable – just like Sebastian had told him. He looked like a child that wore a thick coat and pretended to be an adult.

Chandler saw Hunter put his hands into his pockets. "Please don't do that again, Chandler. Don't ever make me do that again," he didn't even look at Chandler's face as he said that.

Chandler placed a hand on Hunter's shoulder. He didn't feel the sharpness of the double edged knife he supposed. He looked at Hunter's face. He didn't look like Hunter anymore, or maybe this was what Hunter didn't want Chandler to see.

"I want to try this again then," Hunter stated, voice soft. "Please allow me to."

Chandler paused to stare at Hunter. "I don't know," he said.

Hunter's eyes were wandering towards Chandler's neck, where the blonde flushed. "Who's your conquest then?"

"Not a conquest," Chandler let out a breath he was holding in. "A mistake."

Hunter slowly nodded his head, but then he paused and asked, "Don't try to uncover me, Chandler. I am a very confusing individual. I am a contradiction in itself, a hypocrite, and could do the stupidest things given the change."

Chandler nodded his head. "Because of your parents?"

"Because of my parents," Hunter repeated Chandler's statement. "And because of my past experiences. I had…quite a few things happen to me before that I do not wish to recite to anyone else."

Chandler's lips pursed tightly. "Why not?"

"Because it'll change how they see me," Hunter explained, rubbing his neck. "And I do not want to seem as a victim."

Chandler looked at his coffee cup that was now cold. "Is your coffee cold too?"

Hunter nodded his head and offered Chandler his coffee. Chandler heated both cups off and wandered towards the living room only to join Hunter on his couch.

Chandler looked at Hunter for a moment. "Why are you so sick looking?" he asked.

Hunter looked at Chandler for some period of time. "Do you really want to do this, Chandler?"

"I'll ask Sebastian," the blonde shook his head. "And I know Sebastian knows. I can tell it in his body language. Actually, Sebastian and I talked and he thinks I should talk to you…and I'd rather hear it from you."

Hunter was staring at space. "My parents," he started, glancing at Chandler to see how attentive he was, "work with chemicals all day long. When I was a child, at one point – I developed this strange fear that they used to put things in my food. I used to react by looking for these small bits of coins here and there in the house and stalking them up until I could buy my own food. Of course, it takes time and what happened is that I'd starve on for days before I actually had enough money to buy anything."

Chandler was as pale as a sheet.

Hunter rubbed his neck before taking a sip of his coffee. "This carried on throughout the rest of my life. I don't trust food as it is. It's not a chemical thing either – because if you look at my cupboard, it's all macaroni and cheese, spaghetti hoops, peanut butter, bread, cereal and chocolate. It's just foods I used to have as a child that I am comfortable with having now. I am incapable of expanding that more or less."

Chandler slowly nodded his head. "You eat like a child."

"Yes," Hunter explained.

Chandler paused for a few moments. "What happens if you eat something that's different?"

Hunter snorted. "I have a panic attack," he said, looking slightly embarrassed for that fact. "It's—"

"Stop," Chandler was actually thinking about it. He didn't ever pay attention to what Hunter was eating or not eating, or what he drank or not drank. He knew that Hunter's coffee consumption was through the roof but that was all he knew. "I'm sorry."

Hunter raised an eyebrow. "For?"

"For never asking you these things," Chandler expressed. "We were together for a really long time, Hunter, and I really didn't know anything about you. I still don't. You're practically a stranger, and I'm sorry I didn't get to know you as I should've."

Hunter nodded his head. "Chandler," he began. "Can you please leave me alone for a bit? I'd hate to push you out of the house. You can take the cup with you. I do want you to take the cup with you. I just…I truly need to be alone right now."

Chandler nodded his head. "Okay," he said, offering Hunter a smile. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm fine," Hunter said, sounding a little like he was enforcing the idea.

Chandler slowly nodded his head. "Can we see Sebastian tomorrow?" he asked. "Both of us? Can you see Sebastian at all?"

Hunter shook his head. "He's just gotten out of an eight month coma," he bitterly shook his head. "The last person he wants to see is the bloke that put him in that very coma."

"You didn't put him in a coma," Chandler's voice was adamant.

"Chandler," Hunter's voice lacked sweetness. "Please, leave. We will talk later but for now, just please leave me alone."

Chandler nodded his head. "Thanks for the coffee," he guessed he'd do as Hunter told him and take the cup out with him. It was nice and Chandler got to keep a cup from Hunter's at least—he didn't think he had anything of Hunter's in his place. He didn't know. He thought of wearing the scarf again. His phone rang and he looked down to see the notification.

Text message from Sebastian. Chandler was gleeful that Sebastian texted him until he read the message. _Help me._

* * *

_xo Peanut Butter/Sam_


End file.
